Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.archive.org/details/artofpliotoplayOOball 


THE  ART  OF  THE 
PHOTOPLAY 


BY 

EUSTACE  HALE  BALL 

laATE    SCENARIO     EDITOR,     STAFF     PLAYRIGHT    AND     DIRECTOR 

FOR    KEUANCE,    ECLAIR,    80LAX,    MAJESTIC,    EXCELSIOR 

AND    OTHER    COMPANIES;    NOW    PRESIDENT   OF 

THE   HISTORICAL   FILM    COMPANY 


SECOND     EDITION 


G.  W.  DILLINGHAM  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1913,  by 
EUSTACE  HALE  BALL 


Press  of 
J.  J.  Little  &  Ives  Co. 

New  York 


<>-'G'A'>  \  D/«^s  f^'--^. 


z> 


That  splendid  hand  of  good  fellows:  the  Playwrights,    '^      ^ 

the  Directors,  the  Actors,  the  Critics,  the  Editors, 

the  Publicity  Men  and  the  Owners  who  have 

built  up  the  motion  picture  industry  to 

its  present   success,   ever   fighting 

for  higher  standards — 

MY  FELLOW -MEMBERS  OF  THE 
SCREEN    CLUB    OF   NEW   YORK 

this  book  is  fraternally  dedicated  by  the  author. 


G83y;e'j 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Foreword 7 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Adventures  of  the  Scenario      11 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Theme  of  the  Photoplay      .       33 

CHAPTER  III. 
Dramatic  Principle 45 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Mechanics  of  the  Scenario.       64 

CHAPTER  V. 
Sample  Scenarios 80 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Epilogue 116 


FOREWORD. 

THE  marvelous  growth  of  motion  pic- 
ture drama  during  the  last  ten  years 
has  reached  the  point  where  more  than 
seven  million  Americans  attend  the  exhibi- 
tions daily.  The  interest  on  the  Continent  is 
even  more  marked. 

It  is  conservatively  estimated  that  not  less 
than  ten  thousand  plays  are  produced  yearly 
in  the  United  States. 

This  means  that  there  is  a  constantly  in- 
creasing demand  for  the  scripts  from  which 
the  plays  are  to  be  produced. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  photoplay  profes- 
sion the  directors  adapted  their  own  ideas 
and  crude  indeed  many  of  them  were.  The 
field  of  melodrama  and  slapstick  comedies 
of  familiar  and  ancient  vintage  soon  became 
exhausted. 

The  result  was  that  the  companies  were 
compelled  to  reach  out  for  original  scenarios 
from  fresher  sources  than  the  minds  of  the 
over-worked  producers.  This  developed  a 
definite  market  for  good  ideas,  and  as  the 
technique  of  production  was  improved  in  the 

7 


8  THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

studios,  so  grew  the  need  for  better  scenarios. 
With  the  rivalry  of  the  increasing  number  of 
companies  grew  more  frequent  releases. 

So,  to-day  there  is  an  absolute  demand 
for  well-conceived,  carefully  written  and 
strongly  original  photoplay  scripts  dealing 
with  comic,  tragic,  historical,  educational  and 
moral  themes.  There  are  more  than  ten 
thousand  needed  for  the  coming  year.  The 
staff  playwrights  are  unable  to  keep  up  the 
pace,  and  it  is  necessary  to  get  new  material 
from  all  parts  of  the  land  to  maintain  fresh- 
ness and  undiminished  appeal  for  the  mil- 
lions of  enthusiastic  photoplay  spectators. 

Ideas,  unique  and  powerful,  are  valuable, 
and  although  not  written  in  scenario  form 
are  very  often  well  rewarded.  Brief  scripts, 
outlining  themes  of  potential  dramatic 
power  are  even  more  valuable,  and  can  be 
rewritten  by  the  directors  and  scenario  ed- 
itors. 

But  the  well-executed,  thoroughly  prac- 
tical and  professional  type  of  photoplay 
scenario,  which  can  be  handed  to  the  produc- 
ing director  as  it  has  been  purchased,  for 
immediate  and  unaltered  staging,  without 
the  additional  expense  and  delay  of  rewrit- 
ing, is  the  one  which  is  worth  the  most  to  a 
motion  picture  company. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY  9 

It  will  bring  the  highest  price.  It  will  in- 
still with  the  scenario  editor,  the  director  and 
eventually  the  owner  of  the  studio  a  desire 
to  have  more  scripts  from  that  same  capable 
author.  That  desire  means  more  sales,  more 
publicity  for  the  photoplaywright,  and 
eventually  a  lucrative  profession,  of  never- 
stale,  ever-improving  opportunity. 

The  development  of  the  technique  of  good 
photoplay  creation  leads  to  a  skill  in  dra- 
matic composition  which  can  be  applied  to 
original  compositions  for  theatrical  produc- 
tions and  literary  work  of  the  broadest 
nature. 

To  learn  how  a  scenario  is  received  and 
produced,  through  the  various  stages  of  the 
studio  and  outdoor  work;  to  learn  what  are 
its  essentials ;  to  learn  the  technical  needs  of 
the  companies,  and  the  drawing  and  selling 
power  of  various  kinds  of  motion  picture 
plays;  to  learn  how  to  sell  the  themes  and 
their  dramatic  presentation  to  the  best  com- 
panies is  necessary  for  steady  success. 

To  impart  that  knowledge,  simply,  hon- 
estly, and  with  absolute  practicality  is  the 
purpose  of  this  book. 


THE    ART    OF    THE 
PHOTOPLAY 

CHAPTER    I. 

The  Adventures  of  the  Scenario. 

THE  scenario  editor  enters  his  sanctum 
in  the  morning  pessimistically.  He 
has  reason  to  be  sad. 
On  his  desk  he  beholds  a  hundred  manu- 
scripts, in  multi-hued,  many-shaped  envel- 
opes of  which  perhaps  one-third  were  deliv- 
ered with  postage  due,  because  their  readers 
were  thrifty. 

With  a  sigh,  and  deprived  of  the  solace  of 
the  fragrant  weed  (for  smoking  is  strictly 
prohibited  by  fire  laws  within  the  precincts 
of  the  studio  building),  he  unlimbers  his 
weather-beaten  paper  knife  and  begins  an- 
other day  of  the  Quest  of  the  Golden  Play! 
Plays  founded,  as  lengthy  missives  on  per- 
fumed paper  inform  him,  on  the  author's 
romances ;  dramas  adapted  from  the  tales  of 
ancient  Rome,  comedies  kidnapped  from 
11 


12         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

ancient  jest-books  printed  before  Joe  Miller 
grew  old  enough  to  smile;  adventures  of 
Nellie  the  Plumber's  Daughter,  of  Ignatz 
the  Frankfurter  King;  the  merry  jests  of 
Kezekiah  Frazzleface, — and  several  hun- 
dred other  heart-achers  are  all  to  be  read 
and  carefully  registered  before  being  laid  in 
the  trays  for  return. 

At  frequent  intervals  the  office  boy  brings 
in  more  packets  for  perusal. 

The  scripts  are  nearly  always  accompanied 
by  personal  notes,  which  if  read  would  con- 
sume hours  of  a  busy  day.  Threats  of  dam- 
age suits  if  any  of  their  ideas  should  be 
stolen;  complaints  from  geniuses  who  have 
forgotten  to  put  names  and  addresses  upon 
their  writings;  manuscripts  in  pencil,  on 
tissue  paper,  in  red,  blue  and  green  ink,  with 
invisible  type- writing, — ail  these  conspire  to 
make  life  more  of  a  burden  for  the  Editor 
as  the  hours  go  on. 

Directors  drift  in,  with  plaintive  demands 
for  good  live  plays  to  start  upon. 

The  owner  visits,  to  relieve  his  mind  of 
sarcastic  criticism  on  the  dramatic  excel- 
lences of  recent  releases — notable  for  the  ab- 
sence of  that  quality  known  as  "story." 

The  Editor  sighs  and  perhaps  reheves  his 
temperament  with  a  gentle  oath. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         13 

When  all  seems  lost,  he  espies  in  a  neat 
envelope,  with  stamped  and  self -addressed 
envelope  for  return,  a  manuscript  unchaper- 
oned  by  an  epistolary  autobiography. 

The  manuscript  is  neatly  typewritten,  on 
heavy  white  paper. 

The  Editor  breathes  hard:  hope  springs 
eternal,  even  in  a  Scenario  Editor's  breast. 

He  studies  it  carefully.  The  title  page 
gives  the  name  of  the  photoplay,  with  the 
author's  name  and  address  in  the  upper  left 
hand  corner.  Turning  the  page  he  beholds 
a  well  written  scenario  synopsis  of  about 
three  hundred  words.  It  is  legible:  it  is 
interesting;  the  theme  is  virile:  the  action  is 
probable,  possible  and  appealing. 

On  the  following  page  he  finds  a  cast  of 
characters  giving  the  age,  a  brief  description 
of  each  important  person,  embodied  in  a 
few  words,  and  from  this  he  can  estimate 
part  of  the  cost  of  the  production;  for  cost 
is  a  most  important  factor. 

Under  the  cast  of  characters  is  a  list  of  all 
the  exteriors  and  interiors  required  for  com- 
plete setting  of  the  piece.  This  determines 
the  remainder  of  expense.  It  is  in  the 
province  of  the  Scenario  Editor,  as  well  as 
the  owner,  to  look  out  for  the  penny  and 
the  hundred  dollar  bill.     The  director  gen- 


14         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

erally  works  at  cross  purposes,  but  that  has 
nothing  to  do  with  our  little  tale. 

Following  the  cast,  on  the  succeeding 
sheets  of  manuscript  the  Editor  is  overjoyed 
to  behold  the  complete  scenario  form  worked 
out  for  every  large  and  small  scene;  not 
wordy  literary  flights  but  vital  flashes  of 
description  of  the  exact  action  or  "business," 
as  it  is  termed  in  the  profession. 

Needless  to  say,  a  scenario  like  this  is  an 
oasis  in  the  desert  of  undesirable  manu- 
scripts. The  Editor  places  it  aside  for  pres- 
entation to  the  directors,  if  indeed  he  does 
not  hunt  up  one  of  them  immediately  with 
his  happy  find.  Even  though  the  plot  and 
action  are  not  as  good  as  some  of  those 
poorly  written,  the  impression  is  so  favor- 
able that  the  best  points  of  the  manuscript 
are  brought  out  forcibly. 

The  average  scenario  editor  is  on  the  look- 
out for  good  material  and  with  his  superior 
skill  and  experience  in  the  needs  of  the  com- 
panies he  is  very  apt  to  aid  in  one  way  or 
another  the  cause  of  the  writer,  by  suggested 
additions  or  perhaps  even  a  rewriting  so  as 
to  utilize  the  good  points  of  the  photoplay. 

Granting  that  the  scenario  meets  the  ap- 
proval of  the  editor  and  the  director  or  di- 
rectors who  determine  the  purchase  of  a 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         15 

scenario,  the  manuscript  after  being  care- 
fully supervised,  is  handed  to  the  producer 
for  staging. 

The  script  may  not  be  used  for  many 
weeks  or  it  may  be  put  on  within  a  few  hours 
of  its  acceptance.  Indeed,  the  latter  is  more 
apt  to  be  the  case  because  of  the  dearth  of 
good  stories  and  the  steady  output  of  the 
companies. 

The  great  bugaboo  of  the  motion  picture 
producers  is  being  behind  schedule.  Almost 
invariably  they  are  forced  to  rush  their 
plays.  The  sooner  a  good  scenario  comes  to 
hand  the  quicker  its  completion  with  satis- 
faction to  the  head  of  the  company  and  the 
release  department. 

There  is  much  preparation  necessary  after 
the  acceptance  of  a  scenario. 

The  director  carefully  studies  the  photo- 
play in  its  theme,  its  romance,  the  photo- 
graphic possibilities  of  the  story,  and  makes 
a  general  embellishment  of  the  action  as 
described  by  the  author. 

Many  directors  rewrite  each  scene  for 
their  own  use,  covering  every  detail  of  char- 
acters, costumes,  properties  "in  hand"  and 
properties  "in  set" ;  a  list  of  indoor  settings 
is  given  to  the  stage  manager  and  arrange- 


16         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

ments  are  made  for  the  production  of  the 
play. 

Weather  conditions  count  very  frequently 
in  the  preparation  for  this  work.  If  the 
weather  is  clear  and  bright,  the  director  gen- 
erally begins  with  the  outside  work. 

The  large  studios,  in  some  instances,  have 
"location  men,"  whose  specialty  is  to  seek 
locations  for  exterior  dramatic  work.  They 
even  go  so  far  as  to  collect  photographs  for 
their  files,  showing  churches,  cottages,  rustic 
bridges,  tenements,  factories,  brooks,  cliffs, 
mountain  scenes  and  the  like  so  that  on  short 
notice  the  director  can  designate  the  loca- 
tions for  his  work.  This  is  not  the  usual  cus- 
tom, however.  In  most  instances,  the  direc- 
tor uses  his  own  general  knowledge  of  local- 
ity for  hunting  the  scenes,  transporting  in 
automobiles  direct  from  the  studio  the  char- 
acters needed  in  particular  outdoor  scenes 
with  the  camera  man,  and  an  assistant.  The 
actors  are  costumed  and  "made  up"  in  their 
own  dressing  rooms  in  order  to  be  prepared 
for  quick  work. 

Within  a  short  radius  of  New  York  City, 
there  is  a  remarkable  diversity  of  scenery 
and  the  companies  of  the  metropolis  are  very 
fortunate  for  this  reason.  Their  mountain 
pictures  are  usually  taken  on  the  heights  of 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         17 

the  Palisades,  on  either  side  of  the  Hudson 
River,  and  for  rustic  country  scenes,  they 
find  ample  variety  within  thirty  minutes' 
automobile  ride  of  Broadwaj^  on  the  Jersey 
Shore,  on  Long  Island  and  in  Westchester 
County,  while  the  city  proper  offers  an  in- 
finitude of  picturesque  backgrounds  which 
will  fit  places  of  almost  any  national  local- 
ity,— Little  Italy,  the  Ghetto,  quaint  Green- 
wich village,  the  wharves,  the  docks,  Italian 
Gardens,  French  Boulevards  and  parks,  the 
squalid  factories, — all  a  few  short  blocks 
from  the  Great  White  Way,  all  rendering 
invaluable  aid  to  the  director. 

When  the  "caravan"  of  actors,  actresses, 
the  camera  man  and  the  director  arrive  at  the 
location  selected,  it  is  necessary  for  the  di- 
rector to  secure  permission  for  the  taking  of 
pictures. 

This  is  not  always  an  easy  task.  Perhaps 
a  janitor,  a  caretaker  or  the  owner  objects  to 
the  immortalization  of  his  property.  But  in 
most  cases  judicious  application  of  soothing 
syrup  of  argent  makes  this  agreeable.  Lo- 
cations cost  from  three  dollars  to  fifty  or  a 
hundred,  depending  upon  the  importance  of 
the  scene  and  the  trouble  incurred.  For  fea- 
ture pictures  trains  and  railroad  yards  are 
often  hired,  where  the  price  runs  up  in  the 


18         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

hundreds.  Trolley  cars,  trucks,  vans,  work- 
men in  trenches,  the  laborers  in  gigantic 
building  operations,  employees  in  machine 
shops, — all  these  are  brought  into  the  set- 
tings when  necessary  to  realize  the  "atmos- 
phere" which  will  allow  the  principal  actors 
to  fulfill  their  dramatic  roles. 

When  the  out-door  location  has  been  se- 
cured, the  camera  is  set  up  on  its  tripod,  and 
the  camera  man,  under  directions  from  his 
superior,  proceeds  to  focus  on  the  necessary 
points.  Chalk  lines  are  drawn,  indicating 
the  field  of  the  lens.  This  field  must  be  used 
for  the  action,  and  here  is  one  of  the  greatest 
problems  of  motion  picture  production. 

Here  must  be  noted  an  unique  feature  of 
cinematographic  drama.  The  stage  of  the 
theatre  is  fan-shaped,  with  the  curve  of  the 
fan — the  apron  or  front  of  the  stage,  under 
the  proscenium  arch — as  the  place  for  lead- 
ing action.  The  entire  space  across  the 
stage,  directly  in  front  of  the  orchestra,  can 
be  used,  and  thus  the  actors  have  great  lati- 
tude. 

It  is  exactly  the  reverse  with  the  cinemato- 
graphic camera.  Its  field  is  fan-shaped,  but 
the  eye  of  the  camera  is  at  the  small  end  of 
the  fan.  The  most  important  business  must 
be  performed  as  closely  as  possible  to  this 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         19 

fan-point,  in  order  that  the  images  may  ap- 
pear large  and  distinctly  upon  the  film. 
Thus,  the  audience  beholds  upon  the  screen 
of  the  theatre  the  dramatic  action,  the  facial 
expression  and  the  subtlety  of  gesture  which 
are  so  necessary  to  take  the  place  of  dia- 
logue. 

The  development  of  the  "close-up"  action, 
whereby  the  figures  are  sometimes  so  large 
as  to  show  only  heads  and  torsos  is  an  Ameri- 
can innovation,  although  we  owe  the  earlier 
methods  of  photoplay  pantomime  to  the 
French  and  Italian  producers. 

When  action  is  carried  on  at  a  distance 
from  the  camera  it  is  diminished  greatly  in 
dramatic  value,  for  the  lens  exaggerates  per- 
spective. 

To  work  in  the  few  feet  allotted, — 
amounting  to  a  stage  width  of  six  or  eight 
feet,  at  a  distance  of  ten  feet  from  the 
lens, — is  a  tremendous  problem  many  times. 

The  director  is  compelled  to  rehearse, 
again  and  again,  the  movements  of  the  ac- 
tors in  order  to  keep  them  within  the  field 
of  vision,  and  at  the  same  time  to  utilize 
each  movement  without  showing  unnatural 
closeness. 

In  one  production  the  director  was  com- 
pelled to  build  a  small  fence  around  the  feet 


20         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

of  an  actor  who  persistently  stepped  out  of 
the  picture  in  a  crucial  dramatic  moment. 
The  figure  of  the  man  was  cut  at  the  knees, 
and  the  fence  was  not  evident — yet  it  saved 
the  day! 

Limited  by  this  necessity,  the  drawing  of 
lines  and  the  careful  work  inside  them  is  of 
vital  import.  For  exterior  work  it  is  espe- 
cially difficult,  while  another  worrisome  fea- 
ture in  street  scenes  is  the  prevention  of 
pedestrians  and  the  ubiquitous  urchin  from 
dashing  through  the  picture  at  the  psycho- 
logical moment. 

Few  flashes  are  run  for  less  than  five  feet. 
These  small  views  are  necessary  to  make  the 
action  continuous  throughout  the  play. 

By  this  is  meant  the  amount  of  space  in 
the  reel  given  to  the  action  necessary  to 
make  the  story  consecutive.  In  other  words, 
a  strong  dramatic  scene  filled  with  important 
business  is  apt  to  run  to  seventy-five  or  one 
hundred  feet,  practically  one-tenth  of  the 
length  of  a  reel.  "Flashes"  of  the  hero  rid- 
ing desperately  on  horseback,  a  telephone 
message,  the  entrance  or  exit  through  a  por- 
tal, will  take  only  eight  or  ten  feet  of  film. 

Here  is  one  of  the  greatest  difficulties  of  a 
photoplaywright — to  avoid  breaks  in  the 
plot  and  to  condense  the  movement  of  the 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         21 

story  so  skillfully  that  every  step  is  evident 
without  expending  too  much  space  on  the 
connecting  links. 

To  return  to  our  outdoor  rehearsal,  when 
the  director  feels  that  the  characters  can  in- 
terpret every  move  and  expression  to  his 
satisfaction,  the  camera  man  turns  the  crank 
and  the  scene  is  filmed.  This  may  have  to  be 
repeated  three  or  four  times  in  order  to  hold 
it  within  the  desired  footage  limit  or  to 
catch  some  difficult  business  correctly. 

The  director  proceeds  with  his  company 
to  the  next  location  and  endeavors  to  com- 
plete, as  far  as  possible,  all  the  outdoor  pic- 
tures during  good  weather,  for  the  sun  light 
or  bright  cloudy  days  are  essential  for  ex- 
terior work. 

In  the  studio,  the  pictures  are  taken  in 
practically  the  same  manner.  The  stage  is 
set  with  scrupulous  attention  to  detail,  the 
properties  are  all  arranged  and,  in  cinemato- 
graphic drama,  real  food,  real  wine,  real  pic- 
tures on  the  walls  and  real  ornaments  must 
be  obtained  instead  of  imitations  which  are 
used  on  the  stage,  because  the  audience  of  a 
theatre  has  not  the  bitter  keenness  of  per- 
ception possessed  by  the  motion  camera  lens. 

All  the  scenes  which  are  to  be  put  on  in 
one  set  are  produced  before  it  is  removed. 


22         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

The  chalk  lines  are  placed  upon  the  floor 
of  the  studio  just  as  was  done  in  the  exterior 
work. 

There  are  many  daylight  studios,  but  it 
has  been  found  advisable,  for  avoiding  ex- 
pensive delays,  to  use  powerful  batteries  of 
electric  lights,  suspended  over  the  stage  and 
arranged  in  rows  on  either  side  of  the  act- 
ing space.  By  this  means  weather  condi- 
tions do  not  interfere  with  the  program  of 
production.  When  all  the  action  in  one  set 
is  completed,  it  is  "struck"  by  the  stage 
hands  and  another  scene  is  erected. 

The  entire  list  of  sets  is  gone  through  with 
in  this  manner,  not  at  all  in  sequence  of  the 
script,  but  according  to  the  discretion  of  the 
director. 

When  all  the  scenes  have  been  photo- 
graphed, the  rolls  of  films  are  sent  to  the 
laboratory,  where  the  negative  or  master  film 
is  developed. 

This  is  separated  and  joined  in  the  order 
indicated  by  the  scenario  arrangement  and 
from  this  is  made  the  first  print  or  positive, 
by  printing  the  picture  upon  fresh  film,  as  a 
photographer  prints  upon  paper  from  his 
glass  plates. 

Every  studio  is  equipped  with  a  minia- 
ture theatre,  called  the  projecting  room,  and 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        23 

thither  the  director  and  his  assistant  hie 
themselves  to  see  the  "first  run"  of  the  print. 

This  is  generally  a  harrowing  experience, 
because  the  entire  reel  seems  helter-skelter 
when  two  or  three  views  have  been  taken  of 
the  same  scene  and  all  run  in  with  the  first 
print.  The  director  chooses  the  best  selec- 
tions from  this,  makes  notes  for  needed  elim- 
inations, and  it  is  put  in  perfected  form,  in 
the  assembling  room,  by  skillful  girl  op- 
eratives. 

It  may  be  necessary  in  some  instances  to 
make  "re-takes"  of  some  of  the  scenes,  ow- 
ing to  mistakes  or  technical  needs.  If  this 
is  the  case,  the  actors  are  reassembled,  the 
scenes  repeated,  interior  or  exterior,  and  the 
new  film  substituted  in  place  of  the  rejected 
portion. 

When  the  print  is  finally  approved,  it  is 
again  assembled,  the  waste  portions  of  the 
film  are  clipped  out  and  it  is  run  once  more 
in  the  projecting  room,  this  time  nearer  the 
idea  of  the  director.  A  print  is  frequently 
run  twenty  times,  after  as  many  "surgical 
operations"  before  finally  approved. 

It  is  certainly  a  terrific  task  to  reduce  a 
film  to  the  exact  number  of  feet  for  a  reel, 
but,  however  heartrending  it  is  for  a  director 
to  cut  into  some  of  his  best  scenes,  it  is  nee- 


24         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

essary  to  do  this,  because  the  commercial 
demands  make  the  unit  one,  two  or  three 
thousand  feet,  as  the  case  may  be. 

After  a  director  has  seen  the  play  shown 
on  the  screen,  he  then  prepares  his  title  list. 
The  main  title  of  the  picture,  with  the  name 
of  the  company  making  it,  is  generally  given 
ten  feet,  and  the  remaining  sub-titles  or 
"leaders,"  indicating  action,  reproductions 
of  letters,  telegrams,  photographs,  etc.,  are 
treated  very  carefully  to  fit  the  needs  of  the 
picture  as  finally  produced. 

For  this  reason,  no  matter  how  carefully 
an  author  words  his  titles  in  his  script,  they 
seldom  answer  the  purpose  needed  because 
inevitable  alterations  in  the  course  of  produc- 
tion make  it  necessary  for  the  director  to 
prune  and  slice  his  titles  to  fit  his  own  needs. 

Pictures  which  require  many  titles  are 
weak,  because  the  story  that  depends  upon 
explanatory  printing  is  difficult  to  follow, 
and  it  should  be  vital  and  unified  in  its  action 
through  the  tableaux  vivantes. 

In  titles,  the  amount  of  space  given  is  gen- 
erally a  foot  to  a  word.  Hence,  two  hundred 
words  of  titles — it  is  easy  to  figure  out  how 
little  that  is  in  the  course  of  a  thirty  or  forty 
scene  picture — takes  up  two  hundred  feet  of 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        25 

film,  or  deprives  the  play  of  one-fifth  of  its 
entire  action. 

Upon  the  completion  of  the  first  print  to 
the  director's  satisfaction,  it  is  sent  to  the 
assembly  room  again.  Here  the  girls  match 
the  positive  as  corrected  with  the  exact  pieces 
of  negatives  from  which  it  was  made,  care- 
fully joining  strip  after  strip  to  follow  the 
exact  sequence  of  the  film  pictures. 

This  negative  is  sent  to  the  factory  and 
from  it  are  made  the  regular  prints,  which 
are  wound  on  the  reels  and  distributed  to  the 
public  for  exhibition. 

This  distribution  in  the  system  of  regular 
releases,  used  in  America,  is  done  through 
syndicates  of  manufacturers.  From  the 
central  office  of  these  syndicates  the  pictures 
are  sent  out  to  the  various  exchanges 
throughout  the  country  and  upon  regular 
orders.  The  exchanges  rent  the  films  to  the 
exhibitors  or  picture  theatre  proprietors  in  a 
special  territory  -svhich  is  allotted  to  them. 

Most  of  the  photoplays  are  shown  one  day 
only  in  each  theatre.  The  newer  the  pictures 
are,  the  higher  price  for  the  rental.  Pic- 
tures known  as  "first  releases"  are  those 
shown  on  the  day  picked  out  by  the  com- 
panies for  the  first  public  exhibition  of  the 
photoplay.     It  is  the  same  throughout  the 


26         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

country.  After  being  shown  in  one  house, 
the  picture  is  either  collected  by  the  agent 
of  the  exchange  to  be  sent  direct  to  another 
theatre  or  forwarded  by  one  exhibitor  to  the 
next  neighbor  on  the  circuit.  In  this  way  it 
goes  through  the  chain  of  theatres  using  mu- 
tual exchange  service,  taking  the  place  of  the 
old  one-night-stand  theatrical  companies. 

The  life  of  a  film  is  generally  a  year  and  a 
half  or  two  years,  although  it  becomes  the 
so-called  "commercial  film"  after  the  first 
year.  It  is  used  to  fill  in  programmes  and 
retained  on  the  shelves  of  the  exchange  for 
emergency. 

Ninety  days  after  the  date  of  release,  it  is 
customary  among  most  of  the  American 
companies  to  ship  the  negatives  to  London, 
where  duplicates  are  made  and  copies  are 
sold  in  the  open  market  to  the  buyers  from 
every  country  in  the  world,  who  flock  to  the 
English  capital  to  make  their  purchases. 
The  titles  are  translated  and  printed  into  the 
languages  of  the  various  countries  in  which 
the  pictures  are  to  be  exhibited.  Thus  the 
American  writer  sends  his  thoughts  and 
dramatic  creations  throughout  the  entire 
world. 

It  has  been  worked  out  by  statisticians  that 
a  photoplay,  with  a  reasonably  good  sale  of 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        27 

thirty  reels,  is  seen  in  the  course  of  a  year  by 
more  than  sixteen  million  people.  Hence  the 
photoplaywright  has  a  greater  audience  with 
one  picture  than  Shakespeare  had  in  two  cen- 
turies. 

The  photoplays  are  advertised  in  the 
magazines  of  the  moving  picture  trade,  the 
synopses  are  printed  in  the  reading  columns, 
as  well  as  being  featured  in  display  adver- 
tisements in  the  periodicals. 

Although  each  of  the  four  large  syndi- 
cates is  composed  of  many  component  com- 
panies, their  work  runs  smoothly  and  the 
syndicates,  for  the  most  part,  advertise  col- 
lectively the  brand  which  they  distribute. 

Besides  the  syndicates,  however,  there  are 
at  present  a  number  of  feature  companies 
working  exclusively  on  the  production  of 
large  spectacular  plays  of  three  and  four 
reel  length.  These  productions  are  gen- 
erally accepted  for  longer  periods  than 
single  reels  and  are  run  in  the  large  thea- 
tres for  periods  lasting  from  a  week  to  six 
months. 

The  scenario  work  of  these  productions  is 
almost  invariably  perfected  by  specialists 
engaged  by  the  companies.  It  is  a  waste  of 
time  for  the  average  playwright  to  prepare 
great  historical  plays,  pageants  and  expen- 


28         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

sive  multiple-reel  productions.  He  is  much 
better  rewarded  by  devoting  his  energies  at 
the  beginning  of  his  career  by  the  production 
of  modern  American  plays  with  simple  casts, 
powerful  action  and  themes  of  every-day 
life. 

These  are  readily  accepted  and  devoutly 
prayed  for  by  the  editors  and  directors. 
When  a  writer  has  created  fifteen  or  twenty 
successful  photoplays,  the  eyes  of  producers 
will  be  upon  him  and  he  is  then  in  line  for 
promotion  to  special  work  on  the  larger  sub- 
jects. 

One  of  the  best  ways  for  a  writer  to  keep 
in  touch  with  the  possibilities  of  the  market 
is  to  follow  very  closely  the  press  announce- 
ments and  the  advertisements  of  the  leading 
periodicals  devoted  to  this  subject.  Maga- 
zines devoted  to  the  art  of  the  writing  of 
scenarios  are  good  for  suggestions  and  tips 
to  new  openings. 

Among  these  are  the  "Writer's  Maga- 
zine," the  "Photoplaywright"  and  the 
"Editor,"  which  are  all  conscientiously 
and  skillfully  devoted  to  the  interests  of 
writers. 

The  strictly  trade  magazines  afford 
definite  knowledge,  week  by  week,  of  the 
needs  and  plans  of  the  companies.     They 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        29 

are  published  for  producers  and  exhibitors, 
but  are  invaluable  to  the  writer  who 
analyzes  situations  and  keeps  abreast  of  the 
times  by  making  the  same  careful  study  of 
operations  that  a  good  salesman  does  in  any 
particular  commercial  field. 

Indeed,  real  art  is  never  complete  unless 
it  is  commercially  successful:  Shakespeare, 
Stevenson,  Balzac,  Dickens,  Thackeray,  and 
practically  all  of  the  great  writers  and 
dramatists,  crystallized  the  best  in  their  own 
times  by  writing  that  which  would  sell,  and 
in  this  M^ay  attained  success. 

Art  which  is  not  valuable  to  the  public 
for  which  it  is  produced  is  seldom  permanent. 
So,  the  photoplays  which  are  not  written  to 
answer  definite  needs  along  the  lines  of  con- 
ventional requirements,  represent  wasted 
energy  and  accomplish  nothing  for  the  im- 
provement of  the  cinematographic  work  nor 
benefit  to  the  author. 

When  the  photoplaywright  establishes  a 
system  of  shrewd,  systematic  and  persever- 
ing salesmanship,  applying  to  his  produc- 
tions the  best  technique,  the  highest  artistry 
of  which  he  is  capable,  his  success  is  eventu- 
ally assured. 

The  "Moving  Picture  World,"  the  "New 
York  Sunday  Telegraph,"  "The  Billboard," 


M)         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

"Motography,"  the  "New  York  Dramatic 
Mirror,"  the  "Exhibitors'  Times-News" — 
all  these  publications  are  strictly  profes- 
sional. Too  much  attention  cannot  be  paid 
to  their  columns  and  display  sections. 

In  particular,  the  "Moving  Picture 
World"  contains  many  interesting  articles 
by  well-known  critics  on  photoplay  tech- 
nique, as  well  as  showing  brief  synopses  of 
the  weekly  releases  of  all  the  important  com- 
panies in  the  field. 

No  wise  writer  will  waste  time  with  the 
get-rich-quick  correspondence  schools  on 
photoplay  technique.  The  scenarios  of  their 
patrons  are  subjected  to  form-letter  meth- 
ods. The  recent  jailing  of  the  promoter  of 
one  of  these  concerns  for  fraudulent  use  of 
the  mails,  by  which  he  is  estimated  to  have 
cleared  thirty  thousand  dollars  in  two  years 
from  his  victims,  should  be  ample  warn- 
ing. 

A  book  which  will  give  a  broad  technical 
knowledge  of  dramatic  construction  can  be 
recommended  to  writers  who  are  earnestly 
working  for  the  highest  rewards  in  this  field. 
This  volume  is  "The  Analysis  of  Play  Con- 
struction and  Dramatic  Principle,"  by  W. 
T.  Price,  which  is  a  profound  and  sincere 
exposition  by  a  philosopher  of  the  art  who 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        SI 

has  read  and  accepted  for  various  managers 
more  plays  in  the  last  twenty-five  years  than 
any  one  else  in  America. 

The  advertisements  of  the  quack  corre- 
spondence schools  announce  that  "no  literary 
training  nor  skill  in  writing  is  necessary  for 
success  in  photoplay  work."  They  declare 
that  "the  idea  is  all  that  is  necessary."  This 
is  false.  There  are  millions  of  ideas:  every 
scenario  editor,  director  and  actor  is  pre- 
sented with  scores  of  clever  suggestions 
from  his  friends.  The  magazines  and  news- 
papers teem  daily  with  incidents  which  would 
be  the  basis  for  good  scenarios,  but  it  is  the 
careful  dramatic  development,  professional 
presentation  of  theme  and  movement,  which 
makes  a  scenario  worth  while.  The  "real" 
money  to  be  made  in  this  kind  of  work  is 
by  scripts  of  professional  excellence,  for  the 
day  is  past  when  companies  pay  five,  ten  and 
twenty-five  dollars  for  fragmentary  ideas, 
or  simple  narrations  of  incidents. 

"Fine  writing,"  i.  e.,  oratorical  and  poetic 
profuseness  of  language,  are  not  required. 
In  fact,  they  militate  against  a  scenario  by 
creating  a  bored  attitude  with  the  reader. 
But  good,  concise  English,  with  description 
of  action  which  conveys  the  exact  require- 
ments, are  necessary  for  successful  work. 


32         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Verbosity  is  to  be  avoided.  But  it  is  most 
advisable  to  have  the  synopsis,  the  descriptive 
passages,  and  the  business  expressed  in  com- 
plete, parsable  sentences  which  indicate  clear 
and  constructive  thought  behind  theiti. 


CHAPTER    II. 

The  Theme  of  the  Photoplay. 

THE  theme  is  the  backbone  which  gives 
strength,  action  and  effectiveness  to 
the  photoplay,  just  as  with  a  drama 
for  the  stage  or  a  novel. 

Despite  the  importance  of  cleverness  in 
presentation  of  the  ideas,  the  ideas  them- 
selves are  what  really  lend  vitality  and  worth 
to  a  story.  Because  of  this  importance  the 
motion  picture  companies  are  compelled  to 
utilize  the  works  of  varied  wTiters,  with  dif- 
ferentiated aspects  on  life,  and  manifold 
dissimilarities  of  personality. 

This  need  of  strong  themes  is  the  great 
boon  for  the  ambitious  writer  who  is  not 
directly  connected  with  the  producing  com- 
panies, but  writes  from  a  different  environ- 
ment. 

His  thoughts  are  apt  to  be  fresher,  and 
while  perhaps  lacking  the  technical  skill  of 
the  scenario  staff  writer,  he  views  life  from 
a  less  professional  vantage  point.     He  is 

33 


S4         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

closer  to  the  people,  and  is  the  center  of  his 
own  individual  web  of  observation  lines;  he 
beholds  romances  and  episodes  absolutely 
unknown  to  others  in  his  same  line  of  work. 
And  when  he  applies  these  personal  experi- 
ences and  observations  to  dramatic  depiction, 
whether  in  the  form  of  photoplays  or  four 
act  dramas  for  the  stage,  he  is  armed  with 
power  and  splendid  ammunition. 

To  apply  these  vigorous  and  unhackneyed 
thoughts  so  as  to  produce  artistic  results 
along  the  lines  laid  down  by  centuries  of 
necessary  conventions,  is  the  simple  and  com- 
plex art  of  dramatic  technique. 

Nothing  in  art,  as  well  as  in  business,  can 
succeed  without  a  deep  and  definite  purpose. 

That  purpose  must,  to  endure  perman- 
ently, be  good,  make  the  world  better  for  its 
existence,  and  arrive  at  a  definite  moral  con- 
clusion. Yet  the  morality  or  the  purpose 
or  theme  of  a  photoplay  must  be  adroitly 
exploited;  for  nothing  is  so  vapid  and  tire- 
some as  the  type  of  play  which  is  a  dramati- 
zation of  be-good-and-you-will-be-happy. 
The  French  novelists  and  dramatists  lean  to 
this  sort  of  thing — at  the  end  of  the  fifth  act, 
but  during  the  preceding  numbers  they  have 
so  stirred  up  the  Decalogue  and  the  Serpent 
that  the  audience  accepts  the  virtuous  finale 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        S5 

as  a  sort  of  soothing  synip,  to  calm  their 
over-stimulated  temperaments. 

The  photoplaywright  should  make  it  a 
point  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  different 
moving  picture  periodicals.  Not  those  which 
publish  Actionized  narratives  of  the  plays, 
but  the  trade  magazines  which  are  published 
for  the  benefit  of  the  manufacturers  and  ex- 
hibitors. 

Through  the  columns  of  these  magazines 
and  careful  reading  of  the  advertisements 
of  the  productions  of  the  different  companies 
for  a  period  of  several  weeks,  the  writer  can 
keep  the  general  field  well  in  mind  and  mas- 
ter the  understanding  of  the  demands  of 
the  public  more  directly  than  through  any 
of  the  so-called  schools  or  even  through  the 
direct  instruction  of  any  one  person. 

Lengthy  letters  to  the  editor  are  a  bore 
and  actually  prejudice  him  against  the 
manuscript.  The  proof  of  the  scenario  is  the 
scenario  itself  and  it  is  even  a  w^aste  of  time 
to  include  any  letter,  for  the  carefully  writ- 
ten manuscript  giving  the  title,  name  and 
address  of  the  writer  and  enclosing  a 
stamped  envelope  and  self-addressed  envel- 
ope explains  itself. 

Above  all  things  avoid  coincidences.  Coin- 
cidence is  the  make-shift  of  a  writer  who 


36         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

cannot  make  the  characters  of  his  plot  work 
out  the  story. 

Avoid  all  actions  or  characterizations 
which  are  not  definitely  needed  in  the  remov- 
ing of  o])stacles  to  the  completion  of  the 
story  or  else  which  are  not  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  show  the  character  and  purpose  of 
the  important  characters. 

Put  one  plot  at  a  time;  the  single  reel 
picture,  lasts  only  eighteen  minutes  and  only 
one  line  of  action  can  be  worked  out  well 
in  this  time.  This  is  another  important  de- 
tail in  which  the  photoplay  differs  from  the 
drama. 

The  title  is  very  important.  It  is  safe  to 
say  that  two-thirds  of  the  scenarios  have 
been  bought  because  of  a  clever  and  salient 
title. 

The  best  title  is  one  which  is  so  expressive 
of  the  theme  that  it  almost  gives  the  entire 
story  in  a  word  or  two  or  three. 

Yet,  the  title  should  not  tell  the  denoue- 
ment of  the  story,  but  leave  that  as  the  bait 
which  attracts  the  spectator  to  the  theatre. 
It  is  bad  to  send  a  scenario  without  a 
thoughtfully  devised  title,  because  the  editor 
naturally  concludes  that  the  author  who  can- 
not plan  a  good  title  cannot  have  a  complete 
grasp  of  his  theme. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        37 

The  editor  or  the  director  frequently 
changes  the  title  and  the  subtitles  to  fit  cer- 
tain demands  of  the  play  as  produced,  but 
they  should  be  carefully  elaborated  in  ad- 
vance. 

Real  dramatic  construction  is  the  art  of 
selecting  the  vital  incidents  of  a  story,  chop- 
ping away  the  unnecessary  parts,  condens- 
ing and  making  more  tense  the  essentials 
and  arranging  them  so  that  they  will  have 
coherence,  swift  and  certain  movement,  a 
stirring  climax  whether  of  comedy,  romance 
or  tragedy  with  a  justified  and  satisfactory 
finale. 

For  the  collection  of  new  material  the 
author  has  a  world  of  resources. 

Every  newspaper  contains  some  new  com- 
plication of  human  drama  or  comedy  in  its 
hundreds  of  items. 

Themes  can  be  developed  from  the  most 
suggestive  and  appealing  of  these.  They 
must  be  transformed  from  the  mere  story 
into  a  dramatic  structure;  with  a  definite 
line  or  thread  of  story,  and  the  imagination 
of  the  writer  must  devise  new  situations, 
additional  characters  and  consecutive  inci- 
dents, which  all  unite  to  reach  a  definite  and 
unavoidable  denouement. 

The  theme  itself  can  be  expressed  in  one 


Sa         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

sentence,  no  matter  how  involved  or  dra- 
matic the  plot. 

Thus,  the  theme  of  "Love  Incog,"  the 
sample  comedy  shown  in  this  book,  is:  "A 
temporarily  bankrupt  young  man  masquer- 
ades as  a  girl,  while  his  sweetheart  dresses 
as  a  man,  to  go  to  a  dance,  whence  they 
elope  and  are  married  in  the  wrong  clothes, 
to  outwit  the  sheriff  and  a  fortune-hunting 
count." 

The  theme  of  "The  Chap  from  Broad- 
way" is :  "A  New  Yorker  goes  to  the  moun- 
tain country  to  buy  timber,  where  he  wins 
a  landowner's  daughter  by  outwitting  her 
old  sweetheart,  the  leader  of  a  moonshine 
gang." 

When  a  theme  can  not  be  expressed  in 
this  manner  it  is  hopelessly  lacking  in  direct- 
ness and  will  not  succeed. 

Every  scenario  should  first  be  expressed 
in  this  way,  with  the  later  divertisements  in- 
troduced to  carry  it  along,  by  an  audience's 
interest,  maintaining  that  interest  with  sus- 
pense and  sympathy,  and  making  it  "real 
life"  by  character  depiction  and  action 
which  "rings  true,"  until  the  end  of  the 
play  satisfies  the  demands  of  poetic  and 
dramatic  justice— and  the  audience. 

Much  sarcasm  has  been  vented  by  certain 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        39 

critics  upon  novelists  and  dramatists  who 
end  their  stories  "nicely."  But,  the  answer 
is  simple:  there  is  so  much  unpunished 
wickedness  and  undeserved  misery  about  us 
every  day,  that  it  is  stimulating  and  bene- 
ficial to  see  virtue  rewarded,  if  only  in  the 
make-believe ! 

One  thing  certain  is  that  audiences  do  not 
relish  the  bitter  ending  as  they  do  the  sweet ; 
there  are,  of  course,  themes  in  which  death 
is  the  only  logical  termination  of  a  char- 
acter's career.  But,  in  each  instance,  the 
purpose  of  such  treatment  should  be  defi- 
nitely to  show  justice  and  to  teach  goodness 
and  happiness. 

The  writer  of  this  book  believes  that  the 
title  of  a  photoplay,  with  the  connotation 
of  ideas  which  it  brings  up,  is  the  first  and 
most  important  step  in  its  preparation. 

With  a  distinctive  and  original  title,  it  is 
almost  certain  that  the  chain  of  thought  will 
proceed  with  clearness,  force  and  artistic 
finish,  provided  that  the  basic  rules  of  sce- 
nario construction  are  followed. 

A  very  good  way  to  tabulate  new  material 
is  to  keep  a  note  book,  in  which  are  to  be 
written  hundreds  of  interesting  titles  and 
suggestive  themes. 

They  may  not  all  be  used  for  months,  but 


40         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

the  inspiration  which  is  necessary  for  con- 
summation is  stimulated  by  continual  study 
of  these  titles,  themes  and  even  characters 
which  may  be  jotted  down. 

The  ideal  photoplay  title  is  that  which  re- 
sembles a  book  name — short,  hinting  at 
much  and  yet  concealing  more,  strong  in 
phrase  and  appealing  to  sentiment. 

Old  plays,  novels  and  even  short  stories 
are  rich  treasure  houses  for  photoplaj^  sug- 
gestion ;  there  is  no  absolutely  original  com- 
bination of  dramatic  elements  proper. 

There  are  said  to  be  twelve  original 
stories.  But  just  as  there  are  only  twelve 
different  notes  of  music,  and  twenty-six  let- 
ters, the  same  multiplicity  of  application 
used  by  composers  and  lexicographers  can 
be  utilized  in  different  combinations  of 
ancient  themes,  combined  with  every-day  in- 
cidents and  characters  familiar  to  the  writer. 

The  great  branches  of  subject  matter 
which  can  be  worked  upon  are  all  based  upon 
Love :  ( 1 )  love  of  another — either  filial,  par- 
ental, friendly,  fraternal  or  sexual ;  ( 2 )  love 
of  country;  (3)  love  of  wealth;  (4)  love  of 
power;  (5)  love  of  learning  and  of  religion. 

What  an  infinite  opportunity  for  varia- 
tion! 

When  characters  appear  in  the  beginning 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        41 

of  a  play  they  should  be  brought  back  again, 
in  logical  manner,  to  participate  in  the  clos- 
ing action,  as  much  as  possible.  This 
strengthens  their  value,  and  at  the  same  time 
clears  up  all  queries  in  the  minds  of  the 
spectators. 

The  closer  the  action  is  twined  about  a 
few  characters,  the  less  difficult  it  is  to  do 
this. 

The  fewer  characters  to  be  woven  into  the 
action,  the  more  dramatic  work  for  each 
character. 

The  ideal  photoplay  would  be  one  with 
three  characters  alone :  for  here  the  work  of 
the  actors  would  shine  at  its  best  and  hold 
the  undivided  attention  of  the  observers. 

At  the  same  time  more  attention  could  be 
given  by  the  director  to  the  production;  more 
time  taken,  because  less  wasted  on  supernu- 
meraries, and  more  money  to  spend  on  set- 
tings and  costumes  and  additional  film,  be- 
cause of  the  reduced  cost  of  salaries. 

But  three-character  plays  are  the  most 
difficult  to  make  successful. 

Audiences  like  to  see  beautiful  landscapes 
and  interiors,  while  a  well-chosen  variety  of 
pleasing  or  picturesque  characters  makes  up 
for  lesser  deficiencies  in  plot. 

Where  historical  subjects  are  treated,  the 


42         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

writer  should  adhere  as  closely  as  possible  to 
the  actual  facts  of  history,  interpolating 
whatever  romance  or  tragedy  is  original  in 
such  a  way  as  not  to  conflict  with  the  records. 

Involved  costume  plays,  demanding  a 
large  number  of  characters  and  scenes,  are 
a  waste  of  effort,  except  upon  special  order 
from  a  producing  company. 

Plays  in  which  houses  must  be  burned  or 
blown  up,  trains  wrecked,  fire  engines  used, 
storms  depicted,  and  other  truly  dramatic 
but  very  difficult  accessories  used,  should  be 
avoided  by  the  writer.  They  are  b}^  the 
companies,  except  on  special  features.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  not  more  than 
twenty  people  in  toto  are  used  for  the  ma- 
jority of  reels. 

The  dramatization  of  popular  novels  and 
successful  plays  can  be  done  only  with  spe- 
cial permission  from  the  authors  or  owners 
of  the  copyrights.  The  companies  generally 
make  these  arrangements  themselves  and 
employ  special  writers  to  make  the  scenarios. 

The  question  of  Censorship  is  an  im- 
portant one  to  the  author  as  well  as  to  the 
companies:  for  photoplays  which  will  not 
pass  the  gauntlet  of  the  protective  commit- 
tees in  various  cities  are  tabooed  by  produc- 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        43 

ers,  because  they  mean  a  waste  of  film  and 
effort. 

The  subjects  under  the  embargo  can  be 
briefly  epitomized.  They  are  well  dispensed 
with  for  photoplays,  considering  the  influ- 
ence which  the  picture  themes  have  upon 
millions  of  young  people  and  susceptible 
elders. 

Education  is  a  movement — it  can  either 
go  forward  or  backward,  and  there  is  no 
standing  still. 

Picture  plays  which  do  not  educate  for 
the  good,  have  an  evil  tendency. 

Wanton  slaughter  and  revolting  cruelty 
should  not  be  shown. 

Murder  by  bullet,  bludgeon  or  knife 
should  not  be  put  upon  the  screen — it  may 
be  hinted  at,  if  necessary  for  the  strength 
of  the  story,  but  should  not  be  committed 
in  view  of  the  spectators. 

Poison  and  its  use  should  be  kept  out  of 
any  play :  it  is  too  apt  to  suggest  deviltry  to 
weak  minds  or  vicious.  Indeed,  all  methods 
of  burglary,  robbery  by  tricks,  forging, 
counterfeiting,  should  be  tabooed,  for  this  is 
criminal  education  when  shown  in  detail. 

Suicide  should  never  be  presented  in  a 
scenario,  as  showing  the  actual  deed — for 
the  same  reason,  evil  suggestion. 


44         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Immoral  flippancy,  suggestive  scenes  and 
repulsive  and  degenerate  characters  should 
be  eliminated.  The  sex  line  is  a  dangerous 
one  to  approach  in  photoplays.  Subjects 
which  would  be  artistic  and  moral  in  stage 
drama  and  novel  form,  accompanied  b}'^ 
splendid  lines  and  presented  in  problem  play 
form,  can  not  be  given  their  reformative 
value  in  wordless  plays.  They  should  be 
avoided  sedulouslj^ 

Romance,  history,  and  nearly  every  dra- 
matic theme  is  based  upon  sex  in  one  M^ay  or 
another,  but  the  wise  photoplaywright  re- 
frains from  encroaching  upon  any  intimate 
topics  which  would  cause  affront  to  the  thou- 
sands of  worthy  and  even  prudish  people 
throughout  the  country  whose  money  pays 
for  the  picture  plays. 

Religious  subjects  which  emphasize  the 
advantages  of  one  religion  over  another  are 
"impossible";  subjects  from  Bible  stories 
must  be  handled  most  delicately  as  well,  be- 
cause of  the  prejudices  of  many  conflicting 
creeds. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Dramatic  Principle. 

THE  keynote  of  all  dramatic  construc- 
tion (a  truth  which  cannot  be  too 
strongly  emphasized)  is  STRUG- 
GLE. Remember  this  whether  you  are  writ- 
ing comedy,  drama,  tragedy  or  romance. 
In  comedy  the  person  struggles  against  a 
ludicrous  or  embarrassing  situation  in  an 
endeavor  to  win  happiness  in  the  end.  Com- 
edy is  a  struggle  with  amusing  circum- 
stances. 

The  same  impulse  prevails  in  drama  where 
the  hero  or  heroine  struggles  against  wick- 
edness, jealousy  or  something  like  that. 

Besides  this,  there  is  the  dramatic  "triad" 
necessary  for  every  play.  There  .must  be 
three  elements.  There  must  be  two  women 
and  a  man,  two  men  and  a  woman,  or  a  man, 
a  woman  and  some  emotion  or  feeling  which 
influences  their  complete  happiness. 

The  first  essential  of  a  dramatic  presenta- 
tion is  to  show  who  the  leading  characters 
are  to  let  the  audience  know  what  the  "strug- 

45 


46         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

gle"  is  and  to  indicate  the  direction  which 
that  action  will  take. 

The  first  scene  of  a  scenario  should  strike 
this  keynote.  The  following  scenes  should 
be  logical  developments  of  the  primary  ac- 
tion in  a  direct  and  unfaltering  progress. 

The  leading  character  or  characters  should 
be  shown  in  practically  every  scene  of  the 
play  except  where  it  is  necessary  to  explain 
by  digression,  the  development  of  some  ac- 
tion in  which  they  will  be  later  implicated. 

For  example:  the  hero  or  heroine  should 
be  shown  at  the  beginning  of  a  drama  or 
comedy.  Then  it  is  perhaps  advisable  to 
jump  to  the  scene  of  some  conspiracy  or 
preparation  of  some  future  action  which  in 
the  next  scene  will  be  brought  into  relation 
with  the  leading  characters. 

Breaks  in  the  action  are  as  bad  on  the 
screen  as  a  stage-wait  on  the  stage.  If  pos- 
sible, it  is  best  to  show  perfect  sequence 
without  the  aid  of  geographical  jumps  or 
drops  in  time,  such  as  "Three  Weeks  Later," 
"Five  Years  Afterwards"  and  such  subter- 
fuges. 

According  to  the  classic  drama,  the  prin- 
cipal characters  are  the  hero  or  male  lead, 
the  heroine  or  female  lead,  the  juvenile  or 
young  man  who  is  generally  the  friend  of 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        47 

the  hero  or  the  comedian,  the  ingenue  or 
young  woman  who  plays  lighter  parts  than 
the  heroine,  the  male  heavy  known  in  melo- 
drama as  the  villain,  the  female  heavy  char- 
acterized as  the  adventuress,  the  low  male 
and  low  female  heavies  generally  of  the  low- 
er social  scale  who  do  the  "dirty  work,"  the 
first  old  man  who  may  be  the  father  of  one 
of  the  characters,  the  second  old  man  who 
plays  lighter  roles,  the  first  old  woman  who 
may  be  the  mother  of  one  of  the  characters 
of  vital  importance,  and  the  second  old 
woman,  who  may  possibly  be  the  nurse  or 
kindly  neighbor. 

It  is  easy  to  analyze  any  drama,  comedy 
or  photoplay  production  to  observe  how 
definitely  this  arrangement  of  characters  is 
followed  in  all  dramatic  construction. 

Another  requisite  of  the  classic  drama  is 
the  so-called  "Greek  unity  of  time,  place  and 
action."  By  adherence  to  this,  the  develop- 
ment of  a  draniatic  incident  follows  fluently, 
within  close  range  of  action  and  with  irre- 
sistible power  upon  the  imagination  of  the 
audience. 

When  the  action  is  divided  into  periods 
of  time,  six  months,  ten  years  or  a  century 
apart,  there  is  an  unavoidable  break  in  the 
sequence  of  the  observer's  thought.     The 


18  THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

power  of  well-portrayed  characters  is  nat- 
urally weakened  because  of  the  changes  of 
time  upon  the  characters  themselves  which 
make  it  necessary  for  a  re-establishment  of 
identities.  The  ideal  period  of  time  for  dra- 
matic action  should  be  that  actually  required 
for  the  presentation  of  the  business. 

Stage  time  is  generally  twice  as  rapid  as 
that  of  actual  life.  In  other  words,  the  de- 
velopment of  action  is  so  intense  that  what 
would  take  half  an  hour  in  action  in  real 
life,  can  be  expressed  in  fifteen  minutes  in 
the  drama  without  the  audience  realizing 
its  condensation.  The  absence  of  dialogue 
in  the  silent  drama  aids  this  rapidity  of  pres- 
entation. 

The  unity  of  place  is  desirable  because  re- 
peated changes  of  costume,  additional  ex- 
traneous characters  and  the  time  jumps 
required  to  get  from  one  end  of  the  country 
to  another  in  the  space  of  a  few  seconds  do 
not  bother  the  producer  nor  interfere  with 
the  artistic  effect  of  the  photoplay. 

Unity  of  place  is  also  of  economical  im- 
portance for  the  production  and  will  permit 
the  use  of  the  same  settings  for  many  scenes. 
In  this  way  the  producer  feels  justified  in 
spending  more  money  upon  the  settings 
themselves.     He  is  more  or  less  limited  by 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         49 

the  owner  of  the  motion  picture  company 
as  to  the  outlay  for  each  picture — and  the 
result  is  more  elaborate  and  artistic  stage 
effects. 

Unity  of  action,  which  means  continued, 
direct  and  unceasingly  forceful  business  in 
every  scene  is  the  prime  essential  of  every 
photoplay. 

No  character  should  be  introduced  who 
does  not  add  his  definite  share  towards  the 
denouement  of  the  play.  It  is  not  necessary 
to  introduce  action  simply  in  order  to  show 
the  nature  of  a  character:  if  the  theme  is 
strong  and  the  purpose  clear,  each  character 
will  show  this  nature  anyway. 

It  is  the  business  of  the  director  to  indi- 
cate by  the  make-up,  the  costume  and  the 
subtleties  of  pantomime,  the  nature  of  the 
characters. 

The  "rising  action"  follows  the  introduc- 
tion, showing  the  development  of  the  situa- 
tion. Then  the  series  of  powerful  incidents 
finally  culminate  in  what  is  called  the  climax. 

On  the  stage  this  is  generally  at  the  end 
of  the  next  to  the  last  act.  It  is  the  big 
thing  of  the  play.  All  the  influences  of  the 
leads  and  the  heavies  culminate  in  this 
climax.  It  is  the  final  great  struggle  before 
the  "falling  action"  which  shows  the  result 


50         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

of  the  activities  of  the  characters,  in  the  de- 
nouement, which  is  the  last  step  in  your  ac- 
tion. 

In  this  latter  all  the  ravelled  skeins  of 
dramatic  activity  (and  there  should  not  be 
too  many  in  an  eighteen  minute  perform- 
ance), are  pulled  together  and  woven  so  as 
to  make  a  complete  fabric  of  the  play. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  "want,'* 
whether  it  be  wanting  the  love  of  a  woman, 
of  a  man,  of  power,  of  money  or  of  food,  is 
the  steam  of  the  dramatic  engine.  The  fight 
to  satisfy  this  "want"  is  the  movement  of  the 
engine  through  the  play.  The  denouement 
is  the  satisfaction  or  deprivation  of  this  de- 
sire which  must  be  in  the  nature  of  dramatic 
and  artistic  justice. 

The  play  must  essentially  be  moral  in  its 
theme. 

If  the  "want"  is  immoral — the  greed  for 
gold  or  the  satisfaction  of  an  unworthy  love 
or  some  other  wicked  design, — the  ending 
of  the  play  must  be  the  logical  punishment 
for  those  efforts  and  the  victorj^  of  good  over 
evil. 

If  the  want  is  noble,  it  should  be  a  happy 
reward,  but  in  all  cases,  the  attainment  of 
good  desires  or  the  penalty  of  bad  ones  must 
be  brought  about  through  the  efforts  of  the 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         51 

characters  themselves  and  not  through  any 
chance  happenings  or  obvious  luck,  written 
to  order  for  the  play  by  the  author. 

The  first  scene  being  the  key-note  of  the 
photoplay,  it  should  begin  with  "ginger"  and 
should  be  in  the  midst  of  activity,  introduc- 
ing as  many  of  the  leading  characters  as 
possible. 

To  have  the  characters  enter  into  a  room 
or  an  exterior  is  a  waste  of  film.  Unless  for 
some  valid  reason  it  is  desirable  to  show  this 
action,  this  extra  time  should  be  omitted. 

As  often  as  possible,  the  characters  should 
be  "discovered"  in  the  scene  when  it  begins 
for  in  many  cases  the  entrance  "eats  up" 
many  valuable  feet  of  film.  In  some  cases, 
it  may  require  thirty  or  forty  feet  of  film 
to  "enter"  the  photographic  field;  this  is 
generally  a  waste  of  space  which  is  needed 
for  more  important  action  in  other  parts  of 
the  film. 

The  director  chooses  locations,  but  sug- 
gested settings,  in  detail,  frequently  lend 
valuable  aid  to  the  artistic  effect. 

It  is  a  good  thing,  in  fact,  to  describe  the 
exact  types  of  characters  and  special  "prop- 
erties" which  the  author  pictures  in  his  mind, 
but  the  play  should  not  depend  upon  any 
particular  setting  or  particular  character  for 


52         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

production.  Neither  should  the  play  be 
written  for  certain  actors  and  actresses  ( fav- 
orites of  the  writer)  because  it  may  fall  short 
of  a  company's  requirements  or  the  possibili- 
ties in  their  casts.  Thus  would  the  idea  be 
handicapped  for  other  sales. 

The  complexities  of  the  action  should  be 
caused  by  the  natural  unwinding  of  the  plot, 
by  the  workings  of  the  characters  in  the 
play  and  follow  along  lines  which  they 
would  be  expected  to  pursue.  If  the  char- 
acter is  a  truck-driver,  he  cannot  be  expected 
to  act  like  a  bank  president.  If  another 
is  a  country  girl  or  a  peasant,  it  is  unreason- 
able to  suppose  that  she  will  work  out  her 
problems  with  all  the  adroitness  and  subtle 
skill  of  a  woman  of  the  world. 

Above  all  the  reward,  or  conquest  of  evil 
which  brings  that  reward,  must  be  so  evident 
that  nothing  is  left  to  the  imagination  of  the 
spectator,  nor  must  it  go  by  chance.  It 
should  be  shown  definitely  that  the  hero  or 
heroine  have  worked,  fought,  and  suffered  in 
order  to  attain  success.  Anything  short  of 
this  is  poor  dramatic  construction. 

These  precepts  are  simple  and  yet  they  ap- 
ply to  the  best  drama  and  literature  of  all 
peoples.  They  were  as  true  in  the  time  of 
Shakespeare  as  they  are  now.    For  this  rea- 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         53 

son  they  can  be  applied  with  more  striking 
effect  to  the  environment  with  which  a  writer 
is  familiar  and  which  will  strike  home  the 
closest  to  the  people  who  will  see  the  play. 

Modern  themes,  modern  characters,  mod- 
ern problems  of  every  day  life  with  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  environment  of  the  present  times, 
gives  to  the  imaginative  writer  a  field  of  in- 
spiration and  activity  which  can  never  be 
drained  dry  of  dramatic  material. 

Sentiment  is  the  oil  which  greases  the  ma- 
chinery which  makes  the  world  go  round. 
Human  interest,  in  other  words,  heart  in- 
terest, is  necessary  for  the  complete  dramatic 
production,  no  matter  what  is  the  nature  or 
setting.  The  appeal  should  always  be  made 
to  the  sj'^mpathies  of  the  audience  in  order 
that  the  efforts  of  the  hero  or  heroine  are 
justifiable.  Sympathy  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  make  the  leading  character  vital  and 
to  hold  the  interest  and  suspense  of  the  audi- 
ence throughout  the  play. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  make  a  man  a  "prig" 
nor  a  girl  a  "prude."  Make  them  worth 
while.  The  leads  should  be  appealingly  hu- 
man. It  is  not  necessary  to  tag  the  moral 
on  to  the  plaj\  It  should  be  self-evident 
through  the  series  of  incidents  which  prove 
the  qualities  of  the  characters  involved. 


54         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

With  comedy  as  in  drama  the  action  is 
that  of  struggle  and  that  comedy  is  most 
successful  which  is  imbued  with  the  spirit 
of  satire,  of  some  foible,  vanity  or  moral  or 
mental  attitude  which  deserves  reproof. 

The  reader  upon  reflection  will  observe 
that  the  just  ridicule  of  unreasoning  ego- 
tism, braggadocio,  selfishness,  avarice, 
cruelty,  extravagance  or  cowardice  are  the 
themes  upon  which  the  importance  of  com- 
edies or  dramas  are  based. 

Farce  is  comedy  which  is  amusing  from 
its  quaint  and  intricate  development  of  tan- 
gled situations  rather  than  character  draw- 
ing which  is  the  basis  of  comedy. 

The  demands  in  motion  picture  companies 
to-day  are  for  quaint,  jolly  comedies  in 
which  can  be  shown  the  faces  of  pretty  girls, 
charming  costumes  and  attractive  landscape 
settings  as  well  as  artistic  interiors. 

The  love  element  should  prevail  but  it  is 
unnecessary,  even  inadvisable  to  have  espe- 
cially disagreeable  characters  in  these  plays 
of  lighter  vein.  It  has  been  said  that  "All 
the  world  loves  a  lover  except  good  luck 
and  his  future  mother-in-law,"  There  are 
many  other  obstacles  besides  these  which  may 
interfere  with  the  course  of  romance  and 
the  achievement  of  sentimental  aspirations. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        55 

By  skilled  depiction  of  discouragements, 
and  interferences  of  a  thousand  kinds,  pre- 
sented in  a  continued  series  of  struggles 
against  them,  a  clever  writer  can  produce 
first-rate  comedies  with  a  spark  of  original- 
ity and  uniqueness  which  should  keep  the 
wolf  from  the  dumbwaiter  for  several  years 
to  come.  The  basis  of  comedy  is  "making 
fun"  of  some  character — and  letting  that 
fun  act  as  the  central  purpose  of  the  play. 

The  themes  to  be  avoided  are  those  of 
sensuality,  degraded  phases  of  life,  moral 
degradation  and  topics  which  are  apt  to  of- 
fend people  of  certain  races,  religious  or 
political  differences. 

Try  this  acid  test  on  every  scenario: 

(1).     Is  it  plausible? 

(2).     Is  it  probable? 

(3).  Will  it  pass  the  Board  of  Censor- 
ship? 

(4).  Is  it  possible  to  produce  it  at  rea- 
sonable expense,  regarding  scenery  and 
characters  ? 

(5).  Is  it  a  simple  theme,  arising  from 
a  natural  beginning  to  a  natural  dramatic 
ending  without  too  many  furbelows? 

(6).  Does  it  possess  individuality,  dif- 
fering absolutely  in  some  important  respect 
from  anything  you  ever  read,  saw  or  heard? 


56         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

After  the  writer  has  succeeded  with  a 
number  of  single  reel  scenarios  it  is  time 
(and  then  only)  to  direct  his  energies  to  the 
multiple  reel  subjects.  Two  reel  comedies 
and  dramas  are  profitable  productions  for 
the  motion  picture  companies  because  the 
additional  expense  seldom  amounts  to  more 
than  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  cost  of  a  single 
reel,  with  double  returns  from  the  sales.  Yet 
the  two  reel  subject  should  be  doubly  power- 
ful in  dramatic  value  to  justify  the  pur- 
chase of  the  script,  at  an  additional  cost. 

The  vogue  for  half -reel  subjects,  by  which 
two  playlets  or  one  play  and  one  educational 
subject  are  shown  on  the  same  reel,  is  past. 
It  requires  no  more  work  for  the  writer,  or 
in  truth  the  producer,  to  produce  a  full  reel 
of  good  selling  power. 

The  technical  presentation  of  a  two  or 
three  reel  subject  is  virtually  the  same  as 
that  of  a  single  reel,  except  that  there  should 
be  a  proportionate  addition  to  the  number  of 
scenes,  and  dramatic  crises. 

As  to  prices  paid  for  scripts,  this  varies 
as  it  does  in  the  magazines  and  book  publish- 
ing field,  with  the  I  value  of  the  work  and  the 
fame  of  a  writer. 

Fifteen  dollars  should  be  the  lowest  price 
accepted  by  even  a  beginner  for  a  script :  if 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        57 

it  is  not  worth  that  to  a  company,  it  is  en- 
tirely valueless. 

Twenty-five  dollars  is  a  fair  price,  how- 
ever, for  an  unknown  writer,  and  is  generally 
the  lowest  offer  made.  The  companies  pay 
on  acceptance,  sending  a  release  voucher  for 
the  author  to  sign,  either  with  the  check,  or 
directly  on  acceptance,  with  the  check  to  fol- 
low the  return  of  the  voucher,  in  which  the 
author  certifies  that  the  story  is  original. 

Scenarios  can  not  be  satisfactorily  copy- 
righted, despite  the  claims  of  certain  adver- 
tising lawyers,  for  the  scenario  is  merely  the 
description  of  a  series  of  actions.  Words, 
phrases,  pictures  (as  records  of  action)  may 
be  copyrighted  by  application  to  the  Regis- 
ter of  Copyrights,  Library  of  Congress, 
Washington,  D.  C.  But  a  dishonest  sce- 
nario editor  can  take  the  theme  of  a  picture 
play,  alter  it  slightly  and  claim  it  as  his  own. 
This  is  the  "profit  and  loss"  column  of  the 
writer — it  is  the  gambling  chance  which  he 
is  forced  to  take  in  sending  his  manuscripts 
for  consideration. 

But  in  nearly  all  the  companies  scrupulous 
honesty  is  observed.  It  is  the  best  business 
policy,  for  it  is  better  to  pay  for  the  work 
of  a  clever  writer,  to  encourage  him  to  offer 
more  material,  than  to  pirate  his  work,  and 


58  THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

make  an  enemy  of  him  when  the  theft  is 
discovered.  For  the  protection  of  his  own 
interests  a  writer  should  accordingly  follow 
the  synopses  publications,  in  the  columns 
of  the  trade  magazines,  to  see  that 
he  has  not  been  tricked.  He  should 
remember,  however,  that  themes  iden- 
tical with  his  own  can  innocently  enough 
be  presented  by  other  writers,  and  accepted 
in  good  faith.  It  is  only  when  the  synopsis 
or  some  peculiarly  clever  titles  or  both  are 
purveyed  that  he  can  claim  plagiarism. 

The  simplest  method  of  protection  against 
plagiarism  of  this  sort  is  to  keep  carbon 
copies  of  every  scenario  written,  with  the 
date  of  offering  to  various  companies,  care- 
fully filed.  When  an  apparent  theft  of  his 
work  is  observed  in  some  advertised  play, 
he  is  entitled  to  demand  the  source  of  author- 
ship from  the  company  producing  it.  If  he 
is  dissatisfied  with  the  reply  it  is  then  time 
to  take  legal  action.  If  plagiarism  can  be 
proved,  by  testimony  which  establishes  his 
own  authorship  and  similarities  which  are 
more  than  coincidences,  it  is  not  a  hard  task 
to  secure  damages  or  a  settlement  out  of 
court  which  will  repay  many  times  the  orig- 
inal price  of  his  scenario. 

Accusations  of  literary  theft  should  be 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        59 

charily  made,  however,  and  only  after  a 
writer  has  made  certain  of  his  case.  The 
burden  of  proof  is  upon  him,  and  it  is  not 
so  easy  to  prove  sole  ownership  of  a  dra- 
matic composition. 

Writers  who  are  experienced  and  success- 
ful in  scenario  production  are  paid  much 
better  prices  than  the  amateurs ;  seventy-five 
and  one  hundred  dollars  are  not  too  much 
for  a  scenario  which  will  net  to  the  company 
a  profit  of  thousands  of  dollars. 

The  future  of  scenario  writing  is  brighter 
than  the  past.  The  old  themes  have  been 
worn  threadbare:  the  mechanics  of  direction 
have  become  so  much  more  strenuous  that 
the  producer  has  no  time  to  write  his  own 
plays,  and  here  is  the  golden  opportunity 
for  an  author  who  devotes  time  and  scien- 
tific methods  to  the  development  of  his  art. 

The  commercial  field  of  motion  picture 
plays  is  changing — each  month  sees  a  sur- 
prising development.  Whereas  a  few  years 
ago  only  one  syndicate  controlled  the  entire 
American  field,  there  are  now  four  impor- 
tant factions,  while  the  so-called  "open  mar- 
ket" is  extending. 

Time  was  when  theatre  proprietors  were 
forced  to  accept  whatever  pictures  were 
doled  out  to  them  by  the  exchanges.    The  ex- 


60  THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

changes  in  turn  took  what  they  could  get, 
and  the  monopoHstic  syndicate  took  the 
"melon."    The  public  was  allowed  to  pay. 

But,  owing  to  the  activities  of  the  "inde- 
pendents," who  formed  new  companies, 
fought  the  battle  of  distribution,  and  bat- 
tered down  the  wall  of  the  monopoly,  it  is 
now  possible  for  the  theatre  proprietor  to 
demand  certain  pictures  from  his  exchange. 
He  is  educated  to  its  desirability  by  direct 
advertising  from  the  manufacturers,  and  his 
patrons  who  follow  the  announcements  of 
the  companies  to  a  surprising  extent,  back 
him  up  in  his  policy.  The  exchanges  are 
independent  enough  to  purchase  features 
from  other  than  their  syndicate  producers. 

It  has  developed  into  survival  of  the  fit- 
test :  when  that  is  carried  down  to  the  foun- 
dation, we  see  that  the  profits  of  the  com- 
panies depend  upon  the  demand,  and  the 
demand  depends  upon  the  steady  and  im- 
proving quality  of  their  photoplays.  So, 
the  opportunity  of  the  writer  is  preeminent : 
as  Shakespeare  says,  "The  play's  the  thing." 
Stars,  advertising,  extravagant  production 
fail  when  the  material  upon  which  they  are 
expended  is  worthless. 

The  motion  picture  art,  as  has  been  truly 
said  by  keen  students  of  the  drama  as  well  as 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        61 

of  the  commercial  phases  of  theatrical 
amusement,  is  only  in  its  infancy.  It  has 
passed  through  the  cheaper  amusement 
houses,  into  the  highest  class  theatres,  is  used 
in  schools,  churches,  universities,  public  in- 
stitutions and  industrial  and  political  work. 
It  is  not  ephemeral:  it  has  come  to  stay.  It 
provides  instruction  and  inspiration  as  well 
as  amusement  for  millions,  and  at  a  pro  rata 
cost  which  makes  it  universal  in  appeal.  The 
motion  picture  has  revolutionized  the  dra- 
matic field  in  more  ways  than  one :  it  is  in  the 
province  of  the  ambitious  playwright  to 
carry  its  standard  even  higher,  and  by  well- 
founded  progress  in  his  own  work  to  attain 
rewards  unequalled  by  that  of  any  other  line 
of  literary  work. 

Of  the  companies  which  are  purchasing 
scenarios,  the  following  list  gives  the  most 
important.  It  is  correct  at  the  time  of  pub- 
lication, but  the  playwright  should  keep 
his  own  list  up  to  date  by  constantly  study- 
ing the  reports  of  development,  as  indicated 
in  the  trade  publications : 

Bio  graph  Company,  807  East  175th 
Street,  New  York. 

Essanay  Film  Mfg,  Co.,  1333  Argyle 
Street,  Chicago,  III. 

Solaw  Company,  Fort  Lee,  N.  J. 


62         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Reliance  Company  ^  River  dale  Avenue, 
TonkerSj  N.  Y. 

Universal  Film  Mfg.  Co,  (editing  all 
scripts  for  Imp,  Rex,  Victor,  Bison,  Pow- 
ers and  Nestor) ,  Mecca  Bldg.,  48th  Street, 
New  York. 

Selig  Polyscope  Company,  20  E.  Randolf 
Street,  Chicago,  III. 

Eclair  Film  Company,  Fort  Lee,  N.  J. 

Thomas  A.  Edison,  Inc.  Studios,  2826 
Decatur  Avenue,  Bedford  Park,  N.  Y. 

Lubin  Mfg.  Co.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

The  Vitagraph  Co.  of  America,  E.  15th 
Street,  Brooklyn,  N,  Y. 

Kalem  Company,  237  West  23d  Street, 
New  York. 

Keystone  Film  Company,  Longacre 
Bldg.,  42d  Street,  New  York. 

Kinemacolor  Company,  1600  Broadway, 
New  York. 

American  Film  Mfg.  Co.,  Ashland  Block, 
Chicago,  III, 

Ramo  Film  Company,  102  West  101st 
Street,  New  York. 

Pathe  Freres,  1  Congress  Street,  Jersey 
City,  N.  J. 

Mutual  Film  Company,  73  West  23rd 
Street,  New  York. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         63 

New  York  Motion  Picture  Company, 
Longacre  Building,  New  York. 

Frontier,  St.  Louis  Motion  Picture  ConV' 
pany,  Santa  Paula,  Cal. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

The  Mechanics  of  the  Scenario. 

AFTER  careful  and  intelligent  work  in 
the  preparation  of  a  scenario,  the  cru- 
cial point  comes  when  it  is  sent  out 
into  the  world  to  win  or  lose  on  its  merits. 

Too  much  care  cannot  be  taken  in  the 
preparation  of  manuscripts.  The  scenario 
editor  of  a  large  company  receives  thou- 
sands of  scenarios  every  week.  He  keeps  a 
record  of  the  name  of  the  play,  name  and 
address  of  the  author,  and  he  tries  in  every 
way  to  safeguard  it. 

However,  the  writer  should  be  very  care- 
ful to  avoid  the  chance  of  loss  or  damage  to 
a  manuscript. 

A  fine  smooth  quahty  of  heavy  white  bond 
paper  should  be  used  of  the  size  of  8^2  "xll". 
The  slight  diiference  in  postage  and  in  ex- 
pense will  be  more  than  justified  by  the 
pleasure  with  which  a  handsome  manuscript 
is  read.  The  writer  should  always  use  fresh 
black  ribbons  on  his  typewriter  so  that  every 

64 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        65 

word  will  be  clear  and  distinct.  Spelling 
and  arrangement  of  the  lines  on  the  page 
should  also  be  faultless. 

To  reiterate  an  earher  but  most  important 
hint,  many  a  second  rate  scenario  has  so 
pleased  a  pessimistic  editor  by  evidence  of 
intelligence,  cleanliness  and  clear  thinking 
on  the  part  of  the  vvriter  that  he  has  paid  a 
first  rate  price  for  it,  and  then,  personally 
made  changes  which  would  improve  its  qual- 
ity for  production. 

Every  manuscript  should  be  typewrit- 
ten. Not  one  out  of  fifty  editors  or  direc- 
tors will  bother  with  the  reading  of  a  hand 
written  manuscript  because  there  are  too 
many  good  ones  sent  in  which  are  type- 
written neatly. 

If  the  scenario  writer  will  remember  that 
the  editor  is  human,  that  his  eyes  are  under 
a  strain  continually,  applying  this  idea  to 
every  page  of  manuscript  diligently,  he  will 
make  himself  persona  grata  with  "the  pow- 
ers that  buy." 

The  full  name  and  address  of  the  author 
should  be  typed  in  the  upper  left  hand  cor- 
ner of  the  first  page  of  the  manuscript.  On 
this  first  page,  in  the  middle  of  the  sheet 
should  be  presented  the  name  of  the  play, 
with  the  statement  that  it   is  an  original 


66         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

photoplay  for  comedy  or  drama,  as  the  case 
may  be,  and  the  name  of  the  author. 

After  the  writer  has  attained  a  certain 
recognition  from  companies,  he  is  justified 
in  stating-  the  price  which  he  desires  for 
manuscripts  on  this  first  page  as  well,  pref- 
erably in  the  lower  right  hand  corner. 

On  the  second  page  of  the  manuscript  it 
is  advisable  to  again  write  the  name  and  ad- 
dress of  the  author  in  the  upper  left  hand 
corner.  On  this  page  then,  should  be  the 
name  of  the  play  in  capital  letters,  and  under 
it  the  word  "Synopsis."  If  possible,  this 
should  be  presented  on  one  page  by  itself, 
single  spaced. 

Frequently  when  a  manuscript  is  ac- 
cepted, the  synopsis  page  is  given  directly  to 
the  advertising  manager  of  the  company, 
while  the  rest  of  the  manuscript  is  kept  by 
the  director  for  production.  The  synopsis 
is  duplicated  and  is  sent  to  the  various  mov- 
ing picture  magazines  to  be  published  in 
their  advance  notices,  in  most  instances  word 
for  word. 

On  the  third  page  of  the  manuscript 
should  be  presented  the  cast  of  characters 
as  shown  in  the  sample  scenarios  in  this 
book.  On  the  lower  part  of  this  page  the 
author  would  do  well  to  give  a  list  of  the 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        67 

various  settings  needed,  and  a  brief  four  or 
five  word  description  for  each  one  with  the 
numbers  of  the  scenes  next  to  each  in  which 
they  are  used,  shown  in  succession. 

By  this  means  the  editor,  at  a  glance, 
reads  the  story  and  turning  over  the  page 
he  finds  the  cast  of  characters  neatly  elab- 
orated. 

It  should  be  noted  that  for  photoplays  we 
should  not  imitate  theatre  programmes  and 
tack  on  ad  libitum  characters  at  the  bottom 
of  the  manuscript  such  as  "chorus  of  vil- 
lagers, policemen,  flower  girls,  pedestrians, 
etc.,"  but  should  specify  the  exact  number 
of  characters  needed,  no  matter  how  small 
the  part.  For  example:  "Two  constables, 
five  soldiers,  three  flower  girls." 

A  list  of  settings,  both  interior  and  ex- 
terior scenes,  gives  the  scenario  editor  an 
opportunity  to  estimate  the  approximate 
cost  of  the  entire  picture  from  the  producing 
end.  The  cost  and  the  lack  of  it  are  im- 
portant factors  in  the  production  of  all 
photoplays. 

The  sooner  a  scenario  writer  masters  the 
art  of  holding  down  production  costs  by  sim- 
ple settings,  small  casts  and  picturesque 
situations  and  landscapes,  the  sooner  will  his 
reward  be  definite  and  frequent.     A  play 


68         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

with  four  leads,  four  extras  and  every  day 
American  settings  can  be  as  strong  or 
stronger  than  one  with  two  hundred  actors. 
It  will  undoubtedly  be  more  direct  in  action 
and  appeal  to  producer  and  audience  as  well. 

On  the  fourth  page  of  the  manuscript, 
the  name  of  the  photoplay  should  be  in  capi- 
tal letters  at  the  top,  and  then  the  action 
should  be  indicated,  scene  after  scene,  in 
numbered  sequence.  For  the  sake  of  legi- 
bility, letters,  telegrams  or  signs  which  are 
thrown  on  the  screen  should  be  boxed  in 
with  a  rule  around  them. 

To  make  the  pages  attractive,  and  to 
bring  out  salient  features,  it  is  well  to  under- 
line with  red  ink  the  words  "Scene  1,  Scene 
2,"  etc.,  as  well  as  the  phrase  describing  the 
settings,  which  is  well  displayed  by  placing 
it  directly  under  the  scene  number.  Drop- 
ping a  line  below  this,  the  particular  action 
should  be  depicted,  as  shown  in  the  examples 
in  this  book. 

The  best  way  to  paragraph  the  action  is 
to  single  space  each  scene  and  leave  one 
space  blank  between  the  scenes. 

The  "business"  or  dramatic  action  should 
be  indicated  thoroughly  in  each  scene.  Seven 
or  eight  lines  for  each  should  suffice  for  al- 
most any  "business" — sometimes  less,  except 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        69 

in  instances  of  intense  and  involved  dramatic 
action.  Too  much  verbosity  tires  the  direc- 
tor who  has  to  alter  the  situations  for  his 
own  purposes  in  many  presentations. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  quotations 
are  always  given  in  "flashes."  That  is,  dur- 
ing the  action  of  a  scene,  the  character  will 
go  through  his  part  and  the  words  desired  to 
be  shown  to  the  audience  will  be  interpolated 
in  the  film  in  printed  sub-title  form,  at  the 
exact  moment  that  he  speaks  them.  The  ac- 
tion then  goes  on  as  he  closes  his  mouth, 
to  the  finish  of  the  scene.  These  speeches 
and  "flash  in"  phrases  are  of  great  technical 
importance,  and  the  success  or  failure  of  a 
picture  may  depend  upon  it. 

Letters,  telegrams  and  messages  are  gen- 
erally exhibited  in  some  manner  during  the 
action  of  a  scene,  and  the  author  should  in- 
dicate them  with  these  words:  "Letter  on 
Screen"  or  "Flash." 

The  writer  should  remember  that  with 
telegrams  and  letters,  it  is  frequently  best 
dramatic  policy  to  hold  the  spectators  in  sus- 
pense as  to  the  contents  of  a  letter.  Great 
power  may  be  given  to  a  vital  idea  by  skill- 
ful delay  in  presentation  of  a  message  to 
the  spectator  until  several  characters  in  the 


70         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

play  have  read  it  and  shown  in  different 
ways  its  effect  upon  them. 

SUSPENSE  in  the  bosom  of  the  specta- 
tor is  as  necessary  for  the  success  of  the  dra- 
matic presentation  as  STRUGGLE  in  the 
action  of  the  characters  I 

The  uncertainty  of  outcome,  the  surprise 
of  the  successive  incidents  of  the  play, — 
these  keep  the  audience  in  sympathy  with 
the  participants,  holding  them  spellbound, 
until  the  final  scene  or  denouement. 

The  earmark  of  the  amateur  is  the  presen- 
tation of  dramatic  incidents  in  a  manner  so 
ingenuous  as  to  let  the  observer  know  exactly 
how  everything  will  turn  out. 

In  other  words,  the  spectator  must  be 
"kept  guessing,"  as  well  as  the  characters. 
The  writer  who  can  present  his  play  in  a 
direct  manner,  while  maintaining  suspense 
which  will  be  evident  to  the  editor  and  the 
director,  is  the  one  w  ho  has  caught  the  great 
secret.  The  director  can  then  embellish  this 
suspense  v»'ith  his  own  skill,  and  by  "busi- 
ness" which  was  undreamed  of  by  the  writer. 

But,  first,  last  and  between  whiles,  the 
playwright  must  remember  that  he  is  selKng 
not  only  his  idea  but  the  way  in  which  it  is 
arranged.  He  must  above  all  be  the  direc- 
tor, as  it  were,  of  his  script,  so  as  to  produce 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        71 

upon  the  purchasing  powers  that  be,  a  clear 
and  complete  understanding  of  its  strength 
and  value.  Accordingly,  too  much  care  can 
not  be  expended  upon  the  succinct  and  artis- 
tic involution  of  these  sequential  scenes! 

At  the  end  of  this  description  of  the  ac- 
tion the  author  will  increase  his  scenario's 
value  to  the  director  by  adding  a  page 
marked:  "Director's  Sheet."  This  should 
have  a  column  of  numbers  on  the  left  mar- 
gin indicating  the  order  of  the  scenes  worked 
out  in  the  preceding  pages. 

In  five  or  six  words  should  be  the  indica- 
tion of  the  action  in  that  scene,  as  for  ex- 
ample : 

1.  Young  inventor  working  on  patent.  .  . . 

2.  Landlady  evicts  inventor  from  house . .  . 

3.  Applying  in  vain  for  job  at  factory. . . . 

4.  Inventor  saves  child's  life  in  runaway .  . 

5.  Inventor  carried  into  millionaire's  home 

6.  Inventor      convalescing.        Millionaire 

promises  aid,  etc 

Room  should  be  left  at  the  right  hand 
side  of  the  page  for  the  director  to  mark 
down  the  number  of  feet  of  film  used  for 
photographing  each  scene. 

When  a  director  has  worked  for  a  week 


72  THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

on  a  well  written  manuscript  on  strong 
paper  with  simple,  direct  descriptions  of  the 
story,  he  is  naturally  impressed  by  the  value 
of  the  author's  work  and  is  sure  to  remem- 
ber the  name  of  a  painstaking  writer. 

It  is  very  often  the  case  that  the  director 
makes  a  request  to  the  scenario  editor  for 
more  stories  from  the  same  author;  this  has 
started  many  a  writer  on  the  road  to  per- 
manent success  as  a  photoplaywright. 

Don't  bind  up  the  pages  of  a  manuscript. 
Clasp  with  clips  which  can  easily  be  loosened. 
Ribbons  and  stitches  and  other  fancy  tricks 
are  a  waste  of  time  and  irritating  to  a  busi- 
ness-like editor  or  director. 

It  is  advisable  to  use  manuscript  cover 
paper  as  the  final  sheet.  This  should  be 
81/2x1 1^4  inches.  It  is  placed  at  the  back 
of  the  manuscript  and  the  additional  %  of 
an  inch  is  folded  down  over  the  front.  The 
clips  can  then  be  slipped  over  the  binding. 

The  scenario  should  be  folded  with  two 
creases  which  divide  it  into  three  horizontal 
panels.  The  name  of  the  scenario  and  the 
name  and  address  of  the  author  should  be 
written  or  neatly  hand-printed  on  the  back 
middle  fold  of  this  cover  paper. 

The  cover  keeps  the  white  sheets  from  be- 
ing crumpled  and  can  be  replaced  easily 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        73 

when  soiled.  The  title  page  should  always 
be  replaced  if  it  contains  finger  marks  or 
lead  pencil  scratchings.  This  can  be  easily 
done  if  the  manuscript  is  bound  with  loose- 
fitting  clips,  instead  of  "clinchers." 

When  an  editor  receives  a  dog-eared 
manuscript  marred  by  finger  prints  and 
blots,  he  naturally  realizes  that  the  scenario 
has  been  tried  and  found  wanting  in  other 
studios  and  a  certain  prejudice  is  created  in 
his  own  mind  against  it. 

The  best  system  for  sending  photoplays 
to  the  editors  is  to  use  two  sizes  of  govern- 
ment stamped  envelopes.  These  can  be  pur- 
chased in  lots  of  fifty,  cheaper  with  two  cent 
stamps  on  them,  than  the  plain  ones  in  the 
stationery  stores,  while  the  paper  is  very 
strong  and  the  mucilage  is  of  the  "stick-to- 
it"  kind. 

A  9-inch  envelope  should  be  used  for  the 
return  of  the  manuscript  with  the  writer's 
name  and  address  distinctly  written  on  it. 
It  is  advisable  to  write  in  the  upper  left  hand 
corner  of  this  envelope  the  name  and  address 
of  the  company  to  which  it  has  been  sent  so 
that,  should  any  accident  blur  the  writer's 
name  on  the  envelope,  it  stands  a  better 
chance  of  eventually  escaping  the  Dead  Let- 
ter Office. 


74         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

This  9-inch  envelope  with  the  manuscript 
should  be  placed  inside  the  nine  and  one-half 
inch  envelope  which  bears  the  address  of  the 
company  to  which  the  manuscript  is  to  be 
submitted.  The  writer's  name  and  address 
should  be  given  in  the  upper  left  hand  cor- 
ner of  the  larger  envelope  and  in  all  cases 
manuscripts  should  be  addressed  to  the  "Sce- 
nario Editor"  rather  than  to  any  particular 
person  connected  with  the  company. 

In  the  motion  picture  profession  scenario 
editors  come  and  go  (for  better  or  worse!) 
with  startling  rapidity.  It  is  illegal  for  a 
company  to  open  an  envelope  personally  ad- 
dressed to  an  appointed  editor  and  this  in 
itself  is  the  cause  of  lost  manuscript,  delayed 
replies  and  literary  heartaches. 

Now,  here  is  a  secret  which  saves  postage 
in  many  instances,  for  many  scripts  are  re- 
turned in  company  envelopes,  with  a  two 
cent  stamp  and  the  author  loses  the  full 
postage  paid  on  his  own  envelope. 

A  two  cent  stamp,  no  matter  how  heavy 
the  envelope,  will  suffice  to  bring  back  a 
manuscript  upon  its  rejection,  because  it  is  a 
first-class  matter.  The  author  can  pay  the 
postage  due  at  his  own  address.  But  the 
large  envelope  which  goes  to  the  producing 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        75 

company  should  be  carefully    weighed    in 
every  instance  and  fully  stamped. 

Editors  are  human  and  when  they  or  their 
company  have  to  pay  eight  or  ten  cents  in 
postage  on  a  manuscript  insufficiently  pre- 
paid, there  is  a  natural  inclination  to  deduct 
about  $10  interest  on  the  investment,  even 
should  the  scenario  itself  be  valuable! 

The  insufficient  postage  bugaboo  has 
scared  away  many  a  good  scenario  with 
magazine  publishers  as  well  as  in  motion 
picture  work. 

As  for  the  recording  of  manuscripts,  the 
photoplay  writer  should  file  at  least  one  car- 
bon copy  of  every  play.  To  that  carbon  he 
should  add  a  sheet  showing  to  whom  it  was 
sent.  The  date  of  mailing  and  of  its  return 
should  also  be  listed.  In  this  way  he  keeps 
a  perfect  record  of  every  manuscript  and  in 
case  of  loss  of  the  original,  he  can  easily 
make  a  duplicate. 

According  to  law,  no  manuscript  is  sold 
for  use  in  production  until  the  author  has 
signed  a  receipt  or  endorsed  his  name  on 
check  in  payment  for  it. 

When  one  company  keeps  a  manuscript 
two  or  three  months  and  the  author  has  an 
opportunity  to  sell  it  in  the  interim,  he  is 
entitled  to  do  so.    He  need  not  worry  over 


76         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

the  consequences  should  the  other  company 
produce  the  play  without  having  notified  him 
of  its  acceptance.  However,  it  is  both  pru- 
dent and  courteous  to  send  a  notification  of 
the  sale,  and  a  cancellation  of  the  previous 
offer  of  the  photoplay  to  the  first  company. 
This  avoids  embarrassment  and  a  possible 
aiFront,  in  case  the  manuscript  should  have 
been  accepted  and  held  pending  the  action 
of  a  well  meaning  but  careless  editor. 

To  mail  more  than  one  copy  of  a  story  to 
purchasing  companies  at  the  same  time  is  a 
breach  of  literary  ethics  which  will  effectual- 
ly place  an  author  on  the  "black  list"  if  such 
a  practice  should  be  discovered. 

One  month  is  ample  time  for  the  consid- 
eration of  a  manuscript. 

A  few  companies  are  courteous  and  large 
enough  to  provide  facilities  for  judgment 
within  three  or  four  days.  Yet,  other  good 
companies  have  methods  of  purchase — such 
as  submission  at  weekly  meetings  to  a  board 
of  producing  directors — which  make  im- 
mediate decision  on  a  good  manuscript  im- 
possible. 

A  bad  script  can  not  be  returned  too 
quickly  to  satisfy  the  editor!  So,  in  many 
instances  "no  news  is  good  news,"  for  a 
fortnight  or  so. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        77 

When  you  have  a  good  original  idea  and 
a  powerfully  written  script,  do  not  be  dis- 
couraged by  repeated  rejections,  nor  by  the 
advice  of  editors  who  say  "this  topic  is  so- 
and-so,"  and  "that  one  is  trite."  What  one 
editor  does  not  desire  or  need,  another  may. 
A  story  should  be  repeatedly  kept  in  motion 
if  it  has  merit,  for  the  supply  is  not  up  to  the 
demand. 

Instead  of  attempting  to  rewrite  a  script 
after  two  or  three  rejections  it  is  better  to 
expend  the  same  energy  in  creating  a  new 
photoplay. 

After  a  story  has  gone  the  rounds  it  is  not 
at  all  a  bad  idea  to  change  the  title,  and  if 
the  script  looks  dirty  to  have  it  transcribed. 
But  one  thing  is  sure:  good  material, 
founded  on  virile  situations  and  with 
that  originality  which  an  author  can  judge 
best  in  his  own  heart,  is  bound  to  sell  some 
day. 

The  art  of  photoplay  writing  has  much  of 
the  elements  of  ordinary  commercial  work. 
To  make  an  impression  upon  the  companies 
the  author  should  systematically  maintain  a 
regular  output  of  scripts.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  send  one  or  two  out  weekly,  in  a  definite 
sequence  of  companies. 

If  the  mechanical  work  is  good,  and  the 


78  THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

quality  uniform  or  improving,  the  editors 
are  bound  to  recognize  the  recurrence  of  the 
particular  author's  name.  This  is  the  appli- 
cation of  the  salesman's  art ;  continual  drop- 
ping will  wear  away  the  stone.  Persistent 
WTiting  improves  the  skill  of  the  craftsman 
as  well  as  establishing  recognition  of  his 
name,  and  growing  interest  in  his  work 
among  the  people  who  can  pay  for  it. 

It  is  an  admirable  plan  to  keep  "tabs"  on 
the  time  required  by  various  companies  in 
returning  manuscripts  submitted.  Some 
give  decisions  within  three  days,  others — 
well-known  and  honorable  at  that — require 
two  months  to  decide  upon  the  purchases. 
What  they  do  during  this  long  period  is  a 
mystery,  but  the  fact  remains.  By  listing 
the  prompt  editors,  the  author  may  evolve  a 
schedule  of  mailing,  by  which  his  manu- 
scripts maj'^  visit  six  or  seven  studios  during 
the  first  month,  and  then  go  on  the  long-time 
circuit  afterward.  Method,  even  applied  to 
hope  deferred,  is  sure  to  bring  results ! 

This  book  is  not  a  collection  of  "don'ts," 
but  of  "do's." 

So,  it  is  left  to  the  reader  to  formulate 
his  own  schedule  of  iron-bound  rules.  The 
essential  of  success  may  be  summarized  sim- 
ply in  this  closing  text: 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        79 

CHOOSE  GOOD  THEMES,  COM- 
IC, ROMANTIC,  OR  DRAMATIC: 
WORK  HARD  IN  PRESENTING 
THEM  IN  DRAMATIC  FORM 
WHICH  WILL  BE  WORTH  MONEY 
TO  THE  PURCHASING  COMPA- 
NIES! 

KEEP  THE  MAILS  BUSY  WITH 
YOUR  SCRIPTS.  WRITE  PER- 
SISTENTLY AND  JUDICIOUSLY. 


CHAPTER    V. 

Sample  Scenarios. 

INASMUCH  as  this  is  indeed  a  picture 
age — when  illustrations  are  essential, 
for  making,  selling,  buying,  study, — 
we  hereby  offer  two  scenarios  of  opposite 
types,  for  the  reader  to  see  the  exact  form 
in  which  two  scripts  were  presented  to  the 
editor  and  the  director. 

"Love  Incog,"  and  "The  Chap  From 
Broadway"  were  produced  as  written 
(under  different  titles),  by  two  different 
companies. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  know  that  both 
scripts  were  accepted  without  the  author's 
name  attached,  and  in  competition  with  more 
than  one  hundred  others  considered  in  the 
same  manner. 

The  writer  of  this  book  directed  both  pro- 
ductions, and  every  scene  was  carried  out 
exactly  as  indicated  in  the  "business"  of  the 
manuscript. 

Very  few  titles  were  given,  in  the  photo- 
play script,  because  the  stories  worked  them- 

80 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         81 

selves  out  without  the  need  of  explanatory 
printing.  It  cannot  be  definitely  decided,  in 
advance,  as  to  just  what  titles  are  needed, 
and  so  they  were  left  to  the  discretion  of  the 
producer,  to  be  placed  in  afterwards. 

It  must  be  understood  that  this  form  of 
presentation  is  not  dogmatic;  the  vrriter 
merely  presents  his  own  theories,  after  many 
years  experience  with  successful  scenarios, 
the  actual  work  of  selecting  casts,  staging 
the  photoplays,  handling  the  advertising  of 
different  companies,  managing  the  sale  and 
distribution  of  films  and  features. 

The  forms  indicated  here  cover  all  the 
essential  needs  for  an  acceptable  scenario,  in 
as  small  space  as  possible.  The  ambitious 
and  studious  playwright  can  doubtless  devise 
his  own  improvements  on  these  suggestions, 
after  observing  what  has  already  been  ac- 
complished with  definite  system  and  care. 


"LOVE    INCOG." 

An  Original  Comedy  For  Photoplay. 

Synopsis. 

Harry  Parsons,  temporarily  embarrassed 
by  some  bad  stock  speculations,  loves  rich 
Dolly  Gray.  Dolly  is  made  miserable  by  an 
impetuous  French  Fortune  Hunter,  Count 
Briebert,  whose  suit  is  favored  by  Dolly's 
mother.  Mrs.  Gray,  to  clinch  the  title,  in- 
vites him  to  a  dance  that  night,  to  which 
Harry  is  invited  by  Dolly's  brother  Dan. 
Harry  is  almost  captured  by  the  creditors 
and  the  sheriff,  but  Dan  helps  him  to  escape 
over  the  roofs  and  in  an  automobile  to  his 
own  home.  The  Sheriff  gets  on  the  trail, 
however,  and  follows  to  the  Gray  home. 
Here  he  waits  for  his  victim.  Dolly  is  dis- 
gusted at  the  Count's  attentions  and  refuses 
to  go  to  the  dance,  but  Dan  evolves  a  scheme. 
He  promises  his  mother  to  bring  Dolly  and 
so  Mrs.  Gray  leaves  with  the  Count.  Dan 
persuades  Harry  and  Dolly  to  dress  in  each 
other's  clothes  and  to  go  to  the  dance  that 
way — without  letting  either  know  of  the 

82 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         83 

other's  plan.  He  tricks  the  Sheriff  again, 
but  the  latter  follows  to  the  dance  hall. 
Harry  as  the  "beautiful  stranger"  makes  a 
great  hit  Avith  the  fellows,  especially  the 
Count. 

At  the  dance  the  pretended  boy  has  great 
fun  with  the  Count,  insults  him,  challenges 
him,  and  fights  a  duel,  proving  that  the  Count 
is  a  coward  and  a  sneak.  Meanwhile,  Harry 
is  raising  old  nick  with  his  pretended  femi- 
ninity and  shocks  the  girls  by  dancing 
Turkey  Trots  and  smoking  cigarettes  as  he 
waltzes.  The  Count  tries  to  make  love  to 
him,  and  he  is  "walloped"  by  Harry  just  as 
Dolly  comes  in,  and  recognizes  the  supposed 
girl.  While  the  dance  is  going  on,  and  com- 
plications setting  in,  Harry's  lawyer  follows 
to  the  country  club  to  bring  him  the  settle- 
ment due  him,  to  square  his  finances.  The 
young  people  are  warned  of  the  Sheriff's 
approach  and  they  elude  him  as  he  enters  the 
dance  hall.  Dolly  agrees  to  elope,  with  Dan 
and  the  lawyer  as  witnesses  and  they  hunt 
up  a  sleepy,  jolly  country  parson  who,  de- 
spite his  temporary  bewilderment,  enters  into 
the  fun  and  marries  them — in  their  reversed 
costumes!  They  change  their  clothes  in  a 
comic  situation  and  speed  back  to  the  dance, 
where  the  Sheriff  is  holding  everyone  up  at 


84         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

the  pistol  point.  Harry  pays  his  debts, 
proves  his  identity,  and  tells  the  joke,  the 
Sheriff  calls  off  his  posse,  and  everyone  is 
happy  except  the  Count  when  the  marriage 
is  announced. 

CAST    OF    CHARACTERS 

Parts: 

Harry  Parsons,  a  young  club  man  in  debt. 

Dolly  Gray,  his  sweetheart. 

Mrs.  Gray,  her  mother. 

Dan  Gray,  her  son,  Harry's  chum. 

Count  Briebert,  a  fortune  chaser. 

The  Sheriff, — -with  a  warrant  for  Harry. 

Extras  : 

Harry's  lawyer,  a  serious  looking  man. 
The  marrying  Parson,  a  jolly  old  soul. 
Ten  girls  at  dance. 
Ten  fellows  at  dance. 
The  chauffeur. 
The  maid. 

Sets — Exteriors  22.    Interiors  30. 

SCENE    PLOT 

Harry's  bachelor  apartment  1-4-8. 

Lawyer's  office  2-21. 

Exterior,  Harry's  residence  3. 

Music  room,  Dolly's  home  5-14-18-23-28-30. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         85 

Exterior  Dolly's  home,— porch,  6-13-17-19- 
27-31-37-41. 

Front  of  Harry's  apartment  7-11. 
Roof  of  apartment  building  9. 
Back  yard,  on  ground  10. 
Street  corner  12-16. 
Dan's  room  15-20-22-25-34-36. 
Dolly's  boudoir  24-26-29-33-35. 
Entrance  of  driveway  32-38-40-42. 
The  Dance  Hall  39-43-46-49-52. 
Anteroom  44-47. 
Exterior  of  dance  hall  48. 
Exterior,  minister's  house  50. 
Interior,  minister's  house  51. 
Lonely  road  45. 

THE    ACTION 

Scene  1. 
Interior:  Harri/s  bachelor  apartment. 
Harry,  worried,  counting  bills,  calling  up 
lawyer  on  telephone. 

Scene  2. 
Interior:  Lawyer's  office. 
Lawyer  at  'phone,  shakes  head.     Flash 
in: 

''Not  a  cent  has  come  from  your 
stocks  yet — there's  five  thousand  due. 


86         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

When  it  comes  I'll  bring  it  right  up  to 

you." 

Lawyer  hangs  up  receiver. 

Scene  3. 
Exterior:  Harry's  residence. 
Flash  of    sheriff    outside    Harry's    resi- 
dence, holding  warrants. 

Scene  4. 
Interior:  Harry's  apartrnent  as  in  1. 
Sheriff  comes  in  and  demands  money. 
Threatening  to  take  out  furniture.  Harry 
begs  off,  gives  him  drinks,  etc.,  but  Sheriff 
goes — giving  him  three  hours.  Other  credi- 
tors come,  presenting  bills,  but  Harry  is 
helpless. 

Scene  5. 
Interior:  Dolly's  house — music  room. 
Count  Briebert  calling.  Mother  gushing. 
Dolly  shows  that  she  wears  a  solitaire  secret- 
ly. She  is  greatly  bored.  Dan,  her  brother, 
comes  in,  much  disgusted  at  presence  of 
Count.    He  exits  to  see  his  friend,  Harry. 

Scene  6. 
Exterior :  Front  of  Dolly's  home. 
Dan  coming  down  steps  angrily.     Gets 
into  the  car,  and  drives  off. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         87 

Scene  7. 
Exterior:  Front  of  bachelor  apartment 

building. 
Sheriff  waiting  around  door.    Dan  enters, 
taking  in  meaning  of  situation. 

Scene  8. 
Interior:  Harry's  apartment  as  in  1. 
Enter  Dan,  amused  at  Harry's  grouch. 
He  offers  him  all  the  money  he  has — Harry 
indicates  that  it  is  not  enough.  They  peer 
out  of  the  window.  Dan  suggests  an  escape, 
by  the  rear.  He  reminds  Harry  of  dance 
that  night.  Harry  paclis  a  little  grip  with 
his  dress  suit,  pumps,  etc.,  and  they  slip  out 
of  room. 

Scene  9. 

Exterior:  Roof  of  apartment  building. 

They  peer  over,  see  Sheriff  in  front.  They 
come  down  fire  escape  or  lightning  rod. 
(Two  camera  positions.) 

Scene  10. 
Exterior:  On  ground,  back  yard. 
They  have  escaped  the  Sheriff  and  the 
creditors.    They  disappear  through  doorway 
to  street. 


88  THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  11. 

Exterior:  Apartment  building  as  in  7. 

Dan  walks  up  and  gets  into  car.  Sheriff's 
suspicions  are  aroused.  He  tries  to  stop  him 
but  Harry  orders  chauffeur  to  speed. 

Scene  12. 

Exterior:  Street  corner. 

Harry  waits  for  Dan's  automobile  and  as 

it  comes,  climbs  into  it  with  grip.     Sheriff 

follows  on  the  run  and  shakes  fist  as  they 

ride  away  laughingly. 

Scene  13. 

Exterior :  Dolly's  home  as  in  6. 

Motor  drives  up  with  Harry  and  Dan. 

Scene  14. 

Interior:  Music  room  as  in  5. 
Count  singing  affectedly  as  Dolly  plays, 
and  mother  sighs  with  bliss.    Dolly  sees  the 
two  boys  go  past  in  hallway,  but  dares  not 
leave. 

Scene  15. 
Interior:    Dan's  room. 
Boys  arrive  in  Dan's  room.    They  discuss 
their  plans. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        89 

Scene  16. 

Exterior:  Street 
Sheriff  on  street — has  taken  number  of 
auto,  and  following  to  home  of  registered 
owner. 

Scene  17. 

Exterior:  Front  of  Gray  mansion  as  in  6. 
Sheriff  arrives.  Boys  see  him  from  sec- 
ond story  window.  He  discovers  number  on 
machine  to  be  one  taken  by  him.  He  de- 
mands knowledge  of  Harry.  Tough  chauf- 
feur orders  him  off  the  grounds.  Sheriff 
shows  badge  and  papers,  and  goes  up  steps. 
He  rings  the  bell  angrily  and  maid  comes 
to  door. 

Scene  18. 

Interior:  Music  room  «5  in  5, 
Mrs.  Gray  and  Count  frightened  when 
maid  and  Sheriff  enter.  He  demands  Harry. 
Dolly  shows  that  she  understands  but  denies 
Harry's  presence.    Sheriff  exits. 

Scene  19. 
Exterior:  Porch  again  as  in  6, 
Sheriff  exits  threateningly,  to  wait  down 
the  street.    Maid  enters  house  again,  slam- 
ming door. 


90         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  20. 
Interior:  Dan's  room  again  as  in  15 » 
Harry  and  Dan  worried  and  trying  to 
figure  out  what  they  shall  do.    Harry  calls 
up  lawyer  again,  using  Dan's  telephone. 

Scene  21. 
Interior :  Lawyer's  office  as  in  2. 
Lawyer    shakes   his    head — no   news   of 
money  coming. 

Scene  22. 
Interior:  Dan's  room  as  in  15. 
Dolly  knocks  and  enters.  She  warns  them 
about  the  Sheriff  whom  they  see  through 
the  window.  She  offers  Harry  the  solitaire 
which  he  has  given  her  to  pawn  for  the 
necessary  funds,  but  of  course  he  refuses. 
She  hears  her  mother  calling.  Dolly  leaves 
Dan's  room.  The  fellows  are  angry  about 
the  Count.  Harry  gets  an  idea  and  tells  it 
to  Dan  who  is  delighted.  Dan  leaves  room, 
while  Harry  begins  to  primp  in  burlesque 
manner  before  the  mirror. 

Scene  23. 
Interior:   Music  room  as  in  5. 
Dolly  bidding   farewell  to   Count,  who 
kisses  her  hand  smirkingly.     She  slaps  his 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        91 

face  to  her  mother's  horror.  He  leaves 
"cutey-cutey"  and  says  he  will  call  for  her  to 
go  to  the  dance. 

Scene  24. 
Interior:  Dolly's  boudoir. 
Dan  carrying  dresses  from  Dolly's  closet. 

Scene  25. 

Interior:  Dan's  room  as  in  15. 

Later.  Dan  is  secretly  giving  Harry 
some  supper,  and  Harry  is  half -dressed  in 
girl's  clothes,  and  smoking  a  pipe  with  his 
feet  crossed.  Harry  begins  to  primp  up 
now,  and  put  on  his  wig,  etc.,  which  Dan 
has  secured. 

Scene  26. 

Interior:  Dolly's  room  as  in  2 J/.. 

Dolly  is  crying,  holding  Harry's  photo, 
and  kissing  it  unhappily — fearing  she  can 
never  wed  him. 

Scene  27. 
Exterior:  Dolly's  home  as  in  6. 
Count  comes  up  with  silk  hat  and  evening 
clothes  to  call  for  Dolly. 


92         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  28. 
Interior:  Music  room  as  in  5. 
Mother    dressed    for   the   dance,    greets 
Count  effusively.    Goes  for  Dolly.     Count 
adjusts  rose  in  buttonhole  and  admires  him- 
self. 

Scene  29. 

Interior :  Dolly" s  i^oom  as  in  2 A. 
Dolly  weeping.    Mother  enters  and  Dolly 
refuses  to  go  to  dance  with  the  Count.  Exit 
Mother  furiously,  after  calling  her  daughter 
an  ungrateful  child. 

Scene  30. 

Interior:   Music  room  as  in  5. 

Enter  Mother,  weeping,  tells  Count.  Dan 

comes  in,  comforts  her,  promises  to  bring 

his  sister,  and  the  Count  takes  Mother  out 

and  into  the  machine  he  came  in. 

Scene  31. 
Exterior:  Dolly's  home  as  in  6, 
The    Count    escorts    Dolly's   mother    to 
dance  in  automobile. 

Scene  32. 
Exterior:  At  the  entrance  of  the  driveway. 
The  Sheriff  stops  the  car,  but  seeing  only 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         93 

the  Count  and  Dolly's  mother,  he  lets  them 
pass  out. 

Scene  33. 
Interior:  Dolly's  room  as  in  24- 
Enter  brother,  who  tells  her  to  cheer  up. 
He  has  an  idea.  Asks  if  she  would  like  to 
square  things  with  the  Count,  and  if  she  will 
do  what  he  says.  She  promises,  and  Dan 
howls  with  mirth.  He  exits, — Dolly 
amazed.  He  returns  with  Harry's  dress 
clothes. 

Scene  34. 
Interior:  Dans  room  as  in  15, 
Harry  almost  ready  with  girl's  costume, 
still  smoking  pipe,  though. 

Scene  35. 
Interior:  Dolly's  room  as  in  24-. 
Dolly  is  just  putting  on  coat  and  strug- 
gling with  the  boy's  necktie. 

Scene  36. 

Interior:  Dans  room  as  in  15. 

Harry  is  ready.    Dan  has  brought  in  one 

of  Dolly's  perfume  bottles  and  douses  him 

with  it,  to  his  disgust.    Dan  wraps  an  opera 

cloak  about  him  and  they  go  down  stairs. 


94         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  37. 

Exterior:  Dolly's  home  as  in  6. 

The  machine  has  returned  for  Dan  and 

his  sister,  and  winking  at  the  chauffeur,  Dan 

takes  Dolly  into  it,  and  they  speed  down  the 

driveway. 

Scene  38. 
Exterior:  The  driveway  as  in  32. 
Sheriff  stops  the  auto,  hut    seeing    only 
Dan  and  a  supposed  girl,  lets  them  go  past. 

Scene  39. 
Interior:  At  the  dance. 
Dan  enters  with  the  beautiful  stranger  on 
his  arm.  "She"  makes  an  immense  hit,  espe- 
cially with  the  volatile  Count,  who  asks  for 
half  a  dozen  dances.  Dan  hurries  back  for 
his  sister. 

Scene  40. 
Exterior:  Driveway  as  in  32. 
Dan  passing  in  and  arousing  the  Sheriff's 
suspicions. 

Scene  41. 
Exterior:  Front  Porch  as  in  6. 
Dan  calls,  and  Dolly,  assisted  by  maid, 
comes  out  in  Harry's  overcoat,  entering  the 
automobile  with  her  brother. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        95 

Scene  42. 

Exterior:  Driveway  as  in  32. 

The  Sheriff,  flourishing  his  revolver,  stops 
iauto,  sure  of  culprit.  He  tugs  at  Dolly, 
through  doorway,  but  Dan  gives  him  a  push 
which  sends  him  sprawling  on  road.  They 
speed  away,  and  the  Sheriff  is  after  them, 
limping  but  determined. 

Scene  43. 

Interior:  At  the  dance  as  in  39. 

Enter  Dan  and  his  "gent"  friend.  Dan 
introduces  him  to  girls  who  like  him  very 
much.  "He"  insults  the  Count,  who  chal- 
lenges him  to  a  duel.  "He"  promptly  ac- 
cepts and  they  step  into  an  ante-room. 

Scene  44. 

Interior:    Ante-room  or  parlor^  outside  of 
dancing  room. 

Count  and  three  or  four  fellows,  with 
Dan  and  "him."  "He"  goes  for  the  Count 
and  begins  to  punch  him  up,  until  the  Count, 
not  waiting  for  the  duel,  falls  on  his  knees 
and  begs  for  mercy.  His  apology  is  ac- 
cepted and  the  party  returns  to  the  dance. 


96        THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  45. 
Exterior:  Lonely  road. 
Sheriif  running  along,  with  a  limp  and  a 
waddle. 

Scene  46. 
Interior:  Dance  hall  as  in  39. 
Girls  all  jealous  of  Harry,  who  is  attract- 
ing all  the  fellows  who  want  dances.  Harry 
shows  some  stocking.  This  disgusts  Mrs. 
Gray  and  makes  a  hit  with  the  Count,  who 
has  been  talking  to  her.  He  goes  over  and 
gets  a  dance  at  once.  Harry  asks  Count  for 
cigarette,  and  smokes  it  as  he  turkey  trots 
with  the  Count.  Chauffeur  enters  and  warns 
Dan  about  Sheriff,  who  takes  his  sister  out 
into  ante-room. 

Scene  47. 
Interior:  Ante-room  as  in  A  A. 
Enter  Dan  and  sister.  They  are  worried 
now.  But,  just  as  they  are  planning  a  get- 
away, to  dodge  the  Sheriff,  in  comes  Harry 
and  the  Count.  Dan  and  his  sister  hide  be- 
hind a  screen.  The  Count  proposes  to  the 
supposed  beauty,  and  declares  that  all  he 
wants  the  other  girl  for  is  her  money.  Dolly 
is  furious,  but  Dan  restrains  her.  Harry 
simply  mops  up  the  ground  with  the  Count, 
and  Dolly  recognizes  her  fiance.    She  rushes 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY        97 

out  and  he  recognizes  her — they  are  both 
dumfounded.  Harry  proposes  that  they 
get  away  quickly.  They  agree  and  Dolly 
promises  that  she  will  marry  him  on  the  spot. 
They  exeunt. 

Scene  48. 
Exterior:  Before  the  club  houses  exterior  of 
daiwe  hall. 
They  are  just  getting  into  the  auto,  when 
up  rushes  Harry's  lawyer,  asking  if  he  is  at 
the  dance.  Harry  explains  his  identity,  but 
the  poor  man  is  overcome.  He  finally  recog- 
nizes Harry  on  close  inspection,  and  gives 
him  a  wallet  with  the  money  which  had  been 
held  up  so  long.  They  drag  him  into  the 
auto  for  a  witness  and  exeunt. 

Scene  49. 
Interior:  Dance  hall  as  in  39. 
Sheriff  enters,  heavily  armed,  terrorizes 
dancers  by  marching  on  floor  and  demand- 
ing Harry;  Mrs.  Gray  faints  in    Count's 
arms. 

Scene  50. 
Exterior:  Front  of  minister's  house. 
He  sticks  head  (in  night  cap)  out  of  win- 
dow, as  party  stops  there  and  knocks.    He 
lets  them  in. 


98         THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  51. 

Interior:  Minister's  parlor   (glass  flowers, 
old-fashioned  stuff,  etc.). 

Enter  minister  in  dressing  gown,  carry- 
ing testament,  and  still  wearing  night  cap — 
very  sleepy.  The  young  couple  stand  up. 
To  his  surprise,  Dan  "gives  away"  the  ap- 
parent young  man.  The  apparent  young 
lady  presents  the  ring.  The  "young  man" 
promises  to  love,  honor  and  obey,  and  the 
brother  kisses  the  "young  man"  while  the 
"young  woman"  pulls  up  his  skirt  and  takes 
out  the  money  for  the  marriage  fee  from  his 
rolled  up  trousers,  etc.  The  minister  col- 
lapses, but  is  told  of  the  whole  joke,  and 
then,  being  jolly,  he  kisses  the  "young  man" 
himself  and  laughs.  Harry  whispers  to  him, 
and  points  to  a  screen.  The  minister  nods, 
and  leads  the  others  out.  Harry  kisses  his 
bride,  and  then  they  undress  on  either  side 
of  the  screen  (camera  is  tilted  to  show  only 
top  of  screen  and  hands  when  they  throw 
clothes  over  top  of  it;  it  is  lowered  again 
when  they  have  exchanged  clothes) .  Minis- 
ter and  others  are  called  in  and  they  rub 
their  eyes  at  the  change.  Exeunt  bidding 
good-bye  to  the  parson. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY         99 

Scene  52. 

Interior:  Dance  hall  as  in  39. 

Mother  still  unconscious,  but  comes  to 
with  a  start  when  Count  drops  her  to  run 
forward  and  greet  Dolly,  who  enters  with 
Harry,  Dan  and  the  lawyer.  She  repulses 
him.  The  Sheriff  levels  his  gun  on  the  new- 
comers, but  recognizes  the  lawyer  with  a 
start  and  lowers  it.  Harry  hands  him  the 
money  for  the  judgment  and  the  Sheriff 
rubs  his  eyes,  and  cusses — he  is  determined 
to  arrest  him  for  resisting  him,  until  Harry 
takes  him  aside  and  tells  him  the  joke.  The 
Sheriff  laughs  and  blurts  it  all  out — con- 
gratulating the  happy  pair.  Everyone  roars 
over  the  fun  and  the  mother  finally  forgives 
the  new  son-in-law,  when  assured  by  the  law- 
yer that  he  is  now  a  very  rich  man,  and  the 
Count  sobs  and  wrings  his  hands  in  grief,  as 
he  realizes  that  he  has  lost  another  fortune. 


The  End. 


"THE  CHAP  FROM  BROADWAY." 

An  Original  Drama  for  Photoplay. 

Synopsis. 

HENRY  ALLEN,  a  hustling  New 
Yorker,  goes  to  the  timber  regions 
of  Tennessee  to  make  some  big  pur- 
chases of  land  for  a  rich  syndicate.  He  goes 
to  see  old  Ezekial  Burrows,  the  biggest  land- 
holder of  the  neighborhood,  whose  pretty 
daughter  Betsy,  makes  a  conquest  at  sight. 
Betsy  is  beloved  by  a  rough,  handsome  and 
unscrupulous  mountain  fellow,  named  Clay 
Nash,  who  intends  to  gain  the  girl  for  a  wife 
and  the  old  man's  timber  lands  for  himself. 
The  arrival  of  the  stranger  enrages  Clay, 
who  determines  to  "show  up"  the  city  fellow 
by  frightening  him,  and  driving  him  back 
to  the  city  in  disgrace.  Henry  Allen  puts 
up  such  a  resistance,  never  lacking  his  sense 
of  humor,  that  Clay  is  driven  to  desperation 
and  with  some  of  his  mountaineer  clansmen 
he  tries  to  murder  the  visitor.  They  are  told 
that  Allen  is  a  deputy  for  Uncle  Sam, 
searching  for  illicit  stills,  and  they  swear  to 

100 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY      101 

kill  the  city  chap.    While  Allen  is  inspecting 
timber  lands  with  old  Burrows  he  is  cap- 
tured by  a  treacherous  ruse  and  taken  to  the 
gang  headquarters,  an  old  mountain  farm- 
house.   Betsy  has  learned  of  their  trickery 
and  comes  to  the  house  to  beg  Clay  for  his 
release.    Allen  hears  her  talking  with  Clay 
as  he  slips  away,  and  believes  that  she  is 
really  in  love  with  the  mountaineer.     He 
escapes  through  a  window,  jumping  to  a  tree 
nearby,  and  mounts  his  horse,  galloping  back 
to  Burrows'  home  where  he  has  been  stop- 
ping.   He  signs  the  agreement  to  purchase 
the  old  man's  holding,  and  is  starting  away 
on  his  long  ride  to  the  railroad   with   her 
father  to  guide  him,  when  Betsy  rides  up 
breathlessly  to  warn  them  that  the  gangsters 
are  after  them.    They  barricade  the  house, 
awaiting   the   mountaineers.     Clay   enters, 
leaving  his  men  outside  on  guard.    Clay  ac- 
cuses Allen  of  stealing  his  sweetheart,  but 
Betsy  blushingly  declares  that  she  loves  not 
him,  but  the  city  man.    Clay  staggers,  and 
starts  to  walk  out,  realizing  his  defeat.    As 
he  turns  to  look  at  them,  in  the  doorway,  the 
city  man  offers  his  hand  and  Clay's  manly 
instincts  conquer,  and  he  acknowledges  his 
defeat  with  his  good  wishes,  promising  to 
send  his  men  away  and  to  leave  the  new- 


102       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

comer  undisturbed.  Old  Burrows,  his  daugh- 
ter and  Allen  follow  Clay  to  the  gate.  As 
the  happy  lovers  wave  farewell,  he  starts  on 
up  the  mountain  road,  head  hanging  and 
dragging  his  gun,  as  he  leads  his  horse  with 
the  others.  The  last  view  shows  a  silhouette 
against  the  sunset  sky  as  Clay  ascends  a  high 
peak  of  the  mountain  to  gaze  sadly  into  the 
valley  below,  where  he  has  lost  his  happiness, 
but  gained  the  great  lesson  of  manliness. 

CAST    OF    CHARACTERS. 

Parts: 

Henry  Allen,  the  city  chap,  clever  young 

New  York  business  man. 
Ezekial  Burrows,    old  Tennessean,    rich 

landow^ner. 
Betsy,  his  pretty  daughter. 
Clay    Nash,    a   handsome    and    dissolute 

mountaineer. 

Extras: 

Burrows'  hired  man. 
First  mountaineer. 
Second  mountaineer. 
Third  mountaineer. 
Fourth  mountaineer. 

Director  of  Syndicate,  a  New  York  busi- 
ness man. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY      103 

Second  director. 
Third  director. 

SCENE      PLOT. 

Interiors: 
Office  in  New  York— 1. 
Burrows'  living  room— 5-7-9-16-18-35-39. 
Mountaineers'  saloon — 21«-26-29. 
Small  attic  room — 25-30. 

Exteriors: 
All  photographed  around  Palisades  dis- 
trict. 

30  scenes  (either  snow  or  bare). 

THE  ACTION. 

Scene  1. 
Interior:  Office. 
Henry  leaving  his  office  and  bidding  fare- 
well to  directors  of  big  syndicate,  on  his  way 
to  buy  land  in  Tennessee.     They  wish  him 
luck. 

Scene  2. 
Exterior:   Station. 
Henry  arrives  at  mountain  station  of  rail- 
road.   Met  by  Ezekial  Burrows'  hired  man. 
Rides  away  with  him. 


104       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  3. 
Exterior:  Mountain  scene. 
Riding  along  mountainous  country  stretch 
with  heavy  timber.    Man  and  Allen  talking 
about  the  timber. 

Scene  4. 
Exterior:  Burrows'  house. 
Arrival  at  house.    Greeted  by  old  man  at 
front  porch. 

Scene  5. 
Interior:  Burrows'  house. 
Allen  meets  pretty  Betsy  and  falls  in  love 
at  sight.  He  gets  down  to  business  with  the 
old  man,  who  insists  on  making  him  comfort- 
able at  first.  Log  fire,  big  chimney,  etc. 
Betsy  gets  good  things  for  him  to  eat.  Hen- 
ry lays  out  proposal  of  the  syndicate.  Old 
man  tells  fears  of  the  mountaineer  gang 
led  by  Clay  Nash. 

Scene  6. 
Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  4. 
Clay  Nash  arrives  with  two  other  horse- 
men.   Inquires  from  hired  man  about  pur- 
pose of  stranger.     Goes  up  steps,  listens  at 
door  and  then  enters. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       105 

Scene  7. 

Interior:  Burrows'  hotise  as  in  5. 

Clay  enters  and  breaks  up  conference. 
Clay  very  insulting  to  the  stranger,  while 
Allen  is  diplomatic  and  "kids"  him  along. 
Quarrel  between  Clay  and  Betsy  there,  and 
Clay  exits  threatening  the  stranger,  and  dar- 
ing him  to  come  outside. 

Scene  8. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  A. 

Clay  comes  outside,  and  gives  orders  to 
his  two  men  to  wait  in  ambush  for  the 
stranger. 

Scene  9. 

Interior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  5. 

Allen  talks  a  minute  with  the  old  man  and 
his  daughter,  who  warns  him.  He  laughs, 
pulls  out  his  revolver,  and  throws  it  on  the 
table,  to  show  them  that  he  has  a  different 
method. 

Scene  10. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  A. 

Allen  on  porch,  he  laughs  at  Clay,  and 
walks  down  steps  with  him. 


106       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  11. 

Exterior:  From  window. 

Ten-foot  flash  of  girl  and  old  man  at  win- 
dow, watching  fearfully. 

Scene  12. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  A. 

Allen  and  Clay  walking  along,  and  Allen 
asking  the  other  to  help  him  buy  up  timber 
lands.  Clay  denounces  Allen  as  a  revenue 
spy.  Allen  laughs,  and  Clay,  seeing  a  good 
chance,  takes  oif  his  hat,  and  steps  to  one 
side.  It  is  a  signal,  and  two  gun  shots  come 
from  a  clump  of  nearby  bushes.  Allen  drops 
low,  and  is  unhurt.  Instantly  he  springs  up, 
grabs  Clay  by  the  neck  and  gives  him  some 
jiu-jitsu,  holding  him  between  the  two  hid- 
den marksmen  and  himself.  He  beats  up 
Clay,  gets  his  gun  avvay  from  him,  holds  it 
at  his  stomach  and  commands  the  two  men  to 
come  forth,  or  he  will  kill  their  leader.  They 
grudgingly  do  so. 

Scene  13. 

Exterior:    Flash, 

Flash  of  old  man  and  Betsy  on  porch  with 
rifles  in  hand. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       107 

Scene  14. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  4- 

Allen  gives  Clay  a  blow,  knocks  him  down 
and  kicks  him,  and  then  hands  him  his  gun 
back,  telling  him  to  get  out.  The  two  men 
glare  at  each  other,  but  Clay's  face  falls  and 
he  looks  down.  The  mountaineers  sneak 
away. 

Scene  15. 

Exterior:  Porch  again  as  before. 

Allen  joining  the  two.  Betsy  now  weep- 
ing as  though  her  heart  was  broken.  Allen 
thinks  she  loves  Clay,  and  he  hesitates,  then 
thanks  the  father  and  daughter.  He  sadly 
goes  inside,  with  Betsy  and  her  father  fol- 
lowing. 

Scene  16. 

Interior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  5. 

Old  man  and  Allen,  smoking  before  big 
fireplace.  Betsy  bids  them  good  night,  leav- 
ing them  to  talk  over  plans  of  timber  sale. 
Betsy  comes  back  and  looks  at  Allen,  with- 
out his  knowing  it,  and  unseen  by  him,  slips 
his  fur  cap  from  the  hook  on  the  wall,  kisses 
it,  and  takes  it  to  bed  with  her.     (Fade  out.) 


108       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  17. 
Exterior:  MoonligJit.   Old  Farm  House. 
Clay  and  his  gangsters  drawn  up  before 
an  old  farm  house,  planning  deviltry  against 
the  newcomer. 

Scene  18. 

Interior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  5. 

NEXT    MORNING. 

Betsy,  tidying  up  living  room,  and  setting 
breakfast  table.  She  takes  down  a  photo- 
graph of  Clay,  which  she  looks  at  and  cries 
over.  Allen  enters  unseen,  and  looks  over 
her  shoulder,  sees  the  picture  and  turns  away 
believing  that  she  loves  Clay.  He  leaves  the 
room,  and  then  misses  seeing  her  tear  up  the 
picture  scornfully,  as  she  realizes  that  the  old 
love  was  not  worth  while — and  that  Clay  is  a 
bad  man.  Allen  re-enters  the  room  with  the 
old  man,  and  they  start  at  breakfast.  He  is 
very  downcast,  however,  and  cannot  eat,  de- 
spite the  attention  of  the  girl. 

Scene  19. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  4' 

Allen  and  old  man,  coming  down  porch 
steps  and  mounting  horses,  to  go  out  and  see 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       109 

the  timber.    Allen  and  the  girl  wave  good- 
bye. 

Scene  20. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  lands. 

Out  in  the  woods,  Ezekial  showing  his 
possessions. 

Scene  21. 

Exterior:  Another  woods  scene. 

Clay  and  men  following  in  the  woods. 

Scene  22. 

Exterior:   Woods  scene, 

Allen  and  Ezekial  met  by  two  horsemen, 
who  tell  Ezekial  some  cock-and-bull  story, 
and  get  them  separated.  Clay  and  his  men 
close  in  on  the  city  fellow  as  soon  as  Ezekial 
is  out  of  the  way,  and  bind  him,  at  the  point 
of  guns. 

Scene  23. 

Exterior:  Old  farm  house  as  in  17. 

Clay's  headquarters.  Mountaineers 
around.  They  hurriedly  roll  barrels  out  of 
sight,  as  Clay  rides  up  with  prisoners,  but 
Allen  notices  this.    Prisoner  taken  inside. 


110       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  24. 

Interior:  Saloon,  "blind  tiger." 

In  the  farm  house,  regular  speak-easy, 
with  sanded  floor,  tables,  etc.  The  men 
crowd  around  Clay  and  his  prisoner,  who  is 
made  to  write  a  letter  to  old  Burrows,  de- 
manding money  for  his  ransom.  The  pris- 
oner is  roughly  treated,  cursed  and  insulted 
by  the  mountaineers.  He  is  led  upstairs  to  a 
little  prison  on  the  loft. 

Scene  25. 

Interior:  Attic  room,  rough  walls. 

Clay  leads  in  Allen,  bound.  Leaves  him 
with  threat  of  death,  after  lashing  him 
across  face,  leaving  welt. 

Scene  26. 

Interior:  Saloon  as  in  ^2, 

The  mountaineers  getting  rougher  and 
rougher.  More  drink.  Clay  tells  them  that 
their  prisoner  is  a  revenue  spy,  and  they 
want  to  lynch  him.  But  he  tells  them  to  get 
a  rope,  and  wait  until  the  messenger  has 
taken  the  demand  for  money  to  old  Bur- 
rows. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       111 

Scene  27. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  home  as  in  4- 

Betsy  leaving  home,  worried  about  the 
absence  of  her  father  and  visitor. 

Scene  28. 

Exterior:   Woods  scene. 

Betsy  meets  her  father  racing  back  on 
horseback,  and  he  tells  her  of  the  disappear- 
ance of  Allen.  She  tells  him  to  ride  for 
home,  and  she  will  search  in  a  certain  place. 
He  wants  to  accompany  her,  but  she  tells 
him  to  do  as  she  bids,  scorns  fear,  and  in- 
sists that  she  has  a  plan  to  save  Allen.  Betsy 
rides  along  toward  Clay's  house. 

Scene  29. 

Interior:  Saloon  as  in  24. 

Clay  decides  to  leave  and  attend  to  the 
ransom  matter  himself.    He  exits. 

Scene  30. 

Interior:  Attic  as  in  25, 

Allen  is  working  himself  loose  from  ropes. 
He  succeeds,  and  hurries  to  window,  where 
he  slips  out. 


112       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  31. 

Exterior:  Roof  of  house,  showing  slanting 
roof. 

Allen  slides  down  from  window  and  then 
jumps  to  tree.  Before  getting  down,  he  sees 
Betsy  coming. 

Scene  32. 

Exterior:  Showing  Allen  up  in  tree  and 
farm  house. 

A  few  feet  back  Allen  is  seen  up  in  tree. 
Clay  comes  out  of  house,  just  about  to  mount 
his  horse.  Betsy  approaches  and  intercedes 
for  Allen.  Allen  thinks  it  is  a  rendezvous, 
instead,  and  broken-hearted  he  turns  away 
and  under  cover  of  their  talking  makes  his 
escape.  He  cuts  his  horse  from  the  hitching 
post  in  the  rear,  and  rides  off  through  the 
country.  Clay,  meanwhile,  refuses  to  help 
the  girl  unless  she  marries  him.  She  refuses. 
He  tries  to  kiss  her,  and  Betsy  lashes  him 
severely  with  her  riding  whip,  taking  his 
gun  from  him,  and  making  him  apologize 
on  his  knees  for  his  insult.  She  mounts  and 
rides  home.  Clay  goes  inside,  wiping  blood 
from  his  face  and  swearing  vengeance. 


the  art  of  the  photoplay     113 

Scene  33. 
Exterior:  Woods  scene. 
Flash.    Allen  riding  through  woods. 

Scene  34. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  4- 

Allen  dashes  up  and  rushes  inside,  where 
the  old  man  is  waiting. 

Scene  35. 

Interior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  6. 

They  draw  up  the  papers,  Allen  delivers 
the  check,  obtains  the  deeds,  etc.,  and  then 
starts  away.  The  old  man  agrees  to  take 
him  to  the  railroad.  Allen  is  very  sad,  and 
asks  the  old  man  to  give  him  a  picture  of 
Betsy,  which  he  does. 

Scene  36. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  4- 

They  are  starting  away  with  their  horses, 
when  Betsy  gallops  up.  She  warns  them  of 
Clay's  pursuit,  which  she  has  heard.  They 
hurry  into  the  house  to  barricade  it. 


114       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

Scene  37. 

Exterior:  Woods  scene. 

Clay  and  gangsters  riding  rapidly  for  re- 
venge and  a  lynching  party. 

Scene  38. 

Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  4. 

The  gangsters  remain  on  their  horses  at 
Clay's  command  to  guard  the  house.  Clay, 
swearing  vengeance,  knocks  on  door  and  is 
admitted. 

Scene  39. 

Interior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  5. 

Inside,  Clay  is  covered  by  the  weapons  of 
Ezekial,  his  daughter  and  Allen.  He  ac- 
cuses Allen  of  stealing  his  sweetheart,  but 
Betsy,  blushing,  declares  her  love  for  the 
Chap  from  Broadway.  Clay  drops  his  head 
and  turns  to  go,  but  Allen  offers  his  hand. 
Clay  braces  up  and  takes  it  like  a  man,  say- 
ing that  he  will  no  longer  contend,  and  will 
order  his  men  away.  He  wishes  the  success- 
ful rival  luck.  Betsy  impetuously  offers  her 
hand  to  him.  Clay  leaves,  dragging  his 
rifle.    They  all  follow  him  out. 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       115 

Scene  40. 
Exterior:  Burrows'  house  as  in  4. 
Clay  comes  down  steps  and  bruskly  orders 
his  men  to  go  back  to  headquarters  and  leave 
him  alone — forbidding  them  to  persecute 
Burrows  and  Allen  further.  Astounded, 
the  men  gallop  away.  Clay  stumbles  awk- 
wardly, blinded  by  tears,  as  he  approaches 
his  own  horse,  which  he  takes  by  the  bridle. 
Ezekial,  Betsy  and  Allen  follow  and  wave 
good-bye  to  him,  as  he  dejectedly  starts  i^p 
the  rocky  trail  above,  leading  his  steed,  and 
dragging  his  gun. 

Scene  41. 
Exterior:  High  cliff  on  the  mountain. 
Clay  ascends  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice, 
leading  his  horse,  and  looks  over  the  valley 
beneath  him.  He  takes  off  his  hat  and 
stands  there,  silhouetted  against  the  sunlight 
( orange  colored  film ) ,  and  the  picture  fades 
out  into  blackness. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Epilogue. 

THE    future    of    the    motion    picture 
drama  is  a  mooted  question.    Theatri- 
cal producers  have  tried  to  cheer  them- 
selves with  the  thought  that  each  season  was 
the  climax  of  its  popularity. 

Instead,  each  season  has  seen  a  broadening 
of  cinematographic  effort  and  the  increase 
of  popular  interest ;  where  five  years  ago  the 
attendance  of  the  moving  picture  show  by 
well-to-do  people  was  considered  a  "slum- 
ming expedition"  it  has  now  become  a  stand- 
ard amusement  at  which  wives,  mothers,  sis- 
ters and  daughters  of  the  best  classes  in 
America  are  the  most  devoted  patrons.  Mas- 
culine appreciation  has  increased  in  equal 
ratio. 

Sterling  financial  interests  have  directed 
their  activities  toward  this  business  during 
the  last  year.  It  is  undeniable  that  a  greater 
share  of  profits  can  be  made  in  this  branch 
of  the  amusement  field  than  in  any  other,  for 
it  is  a  cash  business  with  quick  returns  and 
116 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       117 

of  the  "rolling  snowball"  nature  where  one 
success  trails  many  others  in  its  progress. 

To  be  extremely  candid,  until  the  very  re- 
cent past,  the  majority  of  men  who  have  had 
control  of  the  motion  pictures  received  their 
dramatic  training  on  the  tanbark  of  the  cir- 
cus, in  button  factories  and  similar  haunts 
of  the  Muses.  A  few  of  the  powerful  mag- 
nates even  to-day  are  recruits  from  the  ranks 
of  saloon  keepers,  ward  politicians,  resort 
proprietors  and  still  more  questionable  in- 
dustries. 

With  them  have  grown  up  a  coterie  of  un- 
scrupulous adventurers  who  have  inveigled 
into  their  projects  the  money  of  other 
people  and  who,  by  stock  jobbing  and  com- 
mercial legerdemain  have  outwitted  their 
associates  and  obtained  control  of  some  of 
the  most  important  companies  producing  to- 
day. 

The  intimate  biographies  of  the  producing 
managers  would  out-rival  some  of  the  under- 
world masterpieces  which  have  recently 
caused  so  much  public  comment  and  police 
activity ! 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  higher  aspects 
of  the  photoplay  drama  have  so  frequently 
been  ignored.  Water  will  not  rise  above  its 
own  level  and  only  recently  have  the  powers 


118       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

higher  up  in  many  of  the  motion  picture 
cheques  yielded  to  the  demand  for  high 
moral  standards  and  first-class  dramatic  pro- 
duction in  their  work. 

But  the  entrance  into  this  field  of  legiti- 
mate investors,  shrewd  and  broad-visioned 
business  men,  has  purified  the  atmosphere  to 
a  great  extent.  Many  producing  companies 
which  from  their  inception  were  run  on  hon- 
est business  principles  against  heavy  odds, 
have  been  benefited  by  the  recruits. 

The  satisfaction  with  which  the  general 
public  has  received  the  improved  productions 
proves  its  commercial  value  by  the  unprece- 
dented prosperity  and  the  steady  increase  in 
demand  for  more  pictures  of  the  better  sort. 
No  longer  does  the  wise  producer  play  ex- 
clusively to  the  "rough-necks."  He  finds  it 
better  policy  to  stage  his  pictures  for  the 
educated  classes,  rather  than  for  the  immi- 
grants, servants  and  the  illiterates  who  have 
hitherto  been  considered  the  best  paying  pa- 
trons. 

The  proprietors  of  the  film  exchanges 
throughout  the  country  are  clamoring  for 
historical,  literary  and  the  finest  of  dramatic 
productions,  preferring  them  to  the  frazzled 
themes  and  hackneyed  productions  which 
sufficed  in  the  past.     The  producing  com- 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       119 

panics  have  at  last  awakened  to  an  under- 
standing of  the  value  of  "theme"  and  the 
advantage  to  be  gained  from  the  employ- 
ment of  first-class  actors  and  actresses.  They 
pay  higher  salaries  to  artists  than  most  of 
the  stage  producers  can  afford. 

Directors  of  photoplays  are  paid  a  great 
deal  more  money  than  theatrical  managers; 
with  them  as  with  the  actors,  their  year  of 
work  contains  fifty-two  wrecks,  while  the 
theatrical  year  is  a  record  breaker  nowadays 
which  runs  for  thirty  weeks.  There  is  no 
dull  season.  In  summer,  when  theatres  are 
dark,  the  moving  picture  companies  are  most 
active :  in  winter,  they  carry  on  their  produc- 
ing (where  summer  scenes  are  needed)  in 
California  and  Florida,  or  travelling  into 
foreign  lands. 

The  life  and  work  is  attractive  and  steady 
in  its  remuneration.  It  is  steadily  drawing 
upon  the  resources  of  the  theatrical  world 
for  its  best  people. 

The  road  shows  of  theatrical  successes 
have  received  decreasing  interest  with  each 
succeeding  month.  Lamentable  as  this  may 
seem  it  has  its  benefits  for  the  American 
play-goer.  Through  the  medium  of  the 
cinematograph  one  good  production,  pre- 
sented by  the  best  obtainable  artists,  and 


120-      THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

under  the  most  perfect  conditions  attainable 
is  seen  by  sixteen  millions  in  a  year,  as 
against  one  hundred  thousand  who  would 
see  a  successful  play  in  the  same  time. 

This  tremendous  movement  which  is  ad- 
mitted by  all  to  be  in  its  "rising  act,"  will  un- 
doubtedly culminate  in  greater  rewards  for 
the  writers  of  the  plays  and  scenarios  to  be 
produced  to  meet  the  demand.  There  is  no 
reason,  even  to-day,  why  a  playwright  should 
not  receive  at  least  $200  for  every  good 
scenario  which  is  accepted  in  view  of  the  fact 
that  not  less  than  a  thousand  dollars  will  be 
expended  on  its  production  and  the  profit 
vary  from  one  hundred  to  one  thousand  per 
cent. 

A  professional  man — a  doctor,  lawyer, 
dentist,  civil  engineer — must  devote  at  least 
three  years  of  study  to  his  profession.  After 
his  graduation  from  the  college  it  is  gener- 
ally necessary  for  him  to  fight  against  dis- 
couragement for  several  years  before  he  es- 
tablishes his  practice  with  a  successful 
remuneration.  Therefore,  it  seems  certain 
that  an  ambitious  writer  who  will  devote 
time,  study  and  energy  to  the  perfection  of 
his  scenario  technique  for  a  few  months,  can 
attain  to  a  position  of  remunerative  success 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       121! 

far  beyond  the  bounds  of  other  intellectual 
work. 

Scenario  writing,  as  an  art,  should  be 
worked  out  on  a  scientific  basis.  The  writing 
of  a  scenario  after  the  general  mastering  of 
principles,  should  not  consume  more  than 
one  day.  An  energetic  author  should  pro- 
duce three  or  four  each  week  even  with  the 
present  rates  of  $25  as  a  minimum  for  a 
good  script.  He  should  be  able,  after  two 
months  of  "laying  in  stock"  to  sell  one  out 
of  every  three  photoplays  he  has  created. 

Within  the  next  year  or  two  the  field  of 
the  photoplay  will  undoubtedly  develop  into 
more  educational,  political  and  religious  lines 
than  it  has  in  the  past.  Thus,  the  wi'iters 
who  are  familiar  with  the  general  field,  with 
its  details  and  its  big  ideas  at  his  finger  tips, 
will  be  in  the  line  for  promotion  to  the  new 
positions  opened  by  such  growth  in  this 
work. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  majority  of  peo- 
ple now  in  the  motion  picture  business  are  in 
a  rut.  Most  of  the  actors  are  so  busy  with 
their  work  that  they  neglect  opportunities  to 
keep  abreast  with  the  trend  course  of  na- 
tional drama.  The  directors,  many  of  whom 
regard  the  theatre,  the  progress  of  literature 
and  art,  and  political  movements  as  alien  to 


122       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

their  own  work.  After  the  hours  of  then* 
undeniably  strenuous  work,  they,  like  the 
motion  picture  actors,  prefer  to  spend  their 
time  in  observing  current  productions  of 
rival  companies  in  exhibition  theatres  or  to 
relieve  their  tense  nerves  in  conviviality. 

Two-thirds  of  the  executive  men  in  the 
motion  picture  business  to-day  are  so  busily 
juggling  stock  transactions,  endeavoring  to 
outplay  their  associates  in  the  game  of 
"dagger-dagger,  who's  got  the  dagger?" 
that  their  knowledge  of  artistic  theatrical 
conditions  is  extremely  short-stopped. 

Here  then,  is  the  opportunity  for  the  out- 
side man,  for  the  writer  who  can  study 
staged  as  well  as  screened  drama  and  who 
can  read  the  good  old  books  and  the  good 
new  ones,  who  can  interpret  the  vital 
thought  in  his  times  and  inject  into  his  w'ork 
unprejudiced  enthusiasm  with  a  vision  of 
true  artistic  perspective.  INIen  may  come 
and  men  may  go,  but  as  Mr.  W.  S.  Gilbert 
remarked,  the  terrestrial  globe  continues 
rolling  on  just  the  same !  The  director,  actor 
or  manager  who  believes  that  he  has  mas- 
tered all  the  secrets  of  his  craft  is  left  behind. 

It  is  the  independent  writer,  the  free  lance 
not  compelled  to  kow-tow  to  film  politicians, 
who  can  win  for  himself  a  recognition  of  his 


THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY       123 

genius  (which  might  be  called  "his  inspira- 
tion plus  perspiration")  which  in  the  future 
enables  him  to  participate  in  these  film-poli- 
tics so  strenuously  through  the  power  of  his 
pen  that  he  can  unite  realities  with  ideals, 
benefitting  motion  pictures  and  his  own  ex- 
chequer. 

Photoplay  writing  leads  to  many  avenues 
of  unique  endeavor  and  reward.  Success  is 
gained  only  by  the  sound  foundation  of  basic 
knowledge  and  the  determination  which  will 
ever  give  encouragement,  overcome  discour- 
agement and  technical  difficulties. 

It  is  not  to  be  understood  that  the  author 
decries  the  value  of  studying  the  present  out- 
put of  motion  pictures  assiduously.  Far 
from  it!  This  should  be  done  in  the  exhibi- 
tion theatres,  motion  picture  magazines,  and 
if  possible  by  personal  observation  of  studio 
production  work.  But  the  author  who  has 
designs  upon  a  profitable  future  should 
never  forget  that  future.  He  should  defi- 
nitely work  for  it  by  applying  to  the  com- 
plete understanding  of  present  conditions, 
his  own  inspirations  and  original  thought 
for  future  work,  treating  photoplays  as  real 
drama,  rather  than  as  pantomimes  and 
"thrillers"  not  governed  by  the  literary  laws 
developed  after  centuries  of  culture. 


124       THE  ART  OF  THE  PHOTOPLAY 

The  daring  and  original  work  of  to-day- 
is  the  success  of  to-morrow. 

The  man  who  has  one  eye  on  the  time 
clock  and  the  other  on  the  cash  register, 
ignoring  the  calendar  of  the  days  and 
months  to  come  is  seldom  apt  to  climb  over 
the  walls  of  to-day's  limitations  to  a  bigger 
and  better  future! 


THE  END. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


^^ 


Foi 


3   1 


58  00769  3939 


*|      ^^h 


A^. 


UCSOIITHFRNRK'.IONAL  LIBRARY  f- ACUITY 


AA    000  410  637    3 


